Potter and Black: The Goblet of Fire
by ArabellaBlack25
Summary: Harry, Ron, Hermione and Arabella are back for their fourth year. How are they going to survive now that Hogwarts is hosting The Triwizard Tournament? Can't they just have a normal year?
1. Return of Padfoot

**So this is the fourth book! You're going to be learning a lot of things about Kassandra through out the book, especially towards the end. Hope you like it!**

**discalimer: I don't own Harry Potter, just Arabella and her story. **

Return of Padfoot

_'I have my reasons for using the boy, as I have already explained to you, and I will use no other. I have waited thirteen years. A few more months will make no difference. As for the protection surrounding the boy, I believe my plan will be effective. All that is needed is a little courage from you, Wormtail — courage you will find, unless you wish to feel the full extent of Lord Voldermort's wrath —'_

_'But the girl, My Lord!' said Wormtail. 'Why must you use –'_

_'You said she looks like her mother? She will be useful. My faithful servant will get close enough to her. Harry Potter is as good as mine, and the girl will soon follow. It is decided. There will be no more argument. Bur quiet… I think I hear Nagini…'_

* * *

'Arabella, wake up,' came a voice, interrupting her sleep.

'Five more minutes,' moaned Arabella, turning over.

'Come on Sunshine! The Earth says hello!' said the voice, opening the curtains so that the sunlight would shine directly into her room.

'Get lost,' said Arabella, throwing something from her tableside towards the person.

The person was now raiding her closet and came across something they recognized.

'Hey! My jacket! I thought I lost this. Where did you find it?'

Arabella finally opened her eyes. This person was obviously not going to go away.

'That is not your jacket Moo –'

Arabella turned around and saw, to her surprise, it was not Remus. It was Sirius Black, her father.

'Hey,' she said softly. 'What are you doing here?'

'Well good morning to you too,' said Sirius with a smile. He was trying on the jacket. 'Still fits.'

'You're not supposed to be here! What if the Aurors find you? Where's Buckbeak? How did you get here? You should be going somewhere south!'

'Calm down,' said Sirius, putting his hands on Arabella's shoulders. 'They won't find me. Buckbeak's safe. I put on charm on him and he's fine. I ran here in my animagus form.'

'But –'

'I'm fine,' insisted Sirius. 'I just wanted to come see you once more before I head down south.'

'I was going to say that I'm going to the Weasley's tomorrow.'

'Then I'll leave tomorrow,' said Sirius. He stood up, took off the jacket and hung it back in Arabella's closet. 'Let's go downstairs. Moony has breakfast ready.'

Together, Arabella and Sirius walked downstairs to the smell of bacon and eggs. Remus already set up their plates on the table. Sirius's plate had more food than Remus and Arabella. Arabella had more bacon on hers. Sirius was stuffing as much as he could down his mouth.

'So what are we going to do today?' said Sirius, food splattering out of his mouth.

Remus and Arabella looked at each other. They were trying to communicate with each other who should tell him.

'Well, Sirius,' said Remus, clearing his throat, 'we were going to go visit Kassandra's grave.'

Sirius's face dropped and he ate his food slower. He seemed to be deliberating whether or not to leave the house at that moment. After what seemed like an eternity, he nodded his head and resumed eating like a pig.

After breakfast, they all cleaned up and got dressed to go to Godric's Hollow. They apparated there with Sirius in his dog form. On the way they picked up some flowers from somebody's garden. Well, Sirius really picked them up.

Godric's Hollow was a really nice area to live. It was a nice place to raise a family. Arabella has asked Remus many times to come visit here, but he always found an excuse not to visit. This time it was different. Remus promised that he wouldn't keep any more secrets.

They finally reached the graveyard and Remus seemed to know where it was. He led them right to Kassandra's tombstone.

_KASSANDRA AMINTA ANASTAS BLACK_

_BORN September 25, 1959_

_DIED August 11, 1983_

_Our greatest adventure has just started_

They stood there for a while, each thinking of what to do next. In the end, Remus left Arabella and Sirius there and stood at the entrance of the graveyard. _This is their moment _Remus thought _They should be left alone._

Sirius moved closer to the tombstone and laid his head on the ground in front of it. He gave a small whimper, as if he was crying. Arabella got on her knees and put the flowers on the ground next to the tombstone. She didn't say anything. Nothing could help with the pain they're both feeling.

Sirius turned his head towards Arabella and laid his head on her lap. Tears were flowing down her face silently. They didn't need word to understand what they're both feeling. It was better left unsaid. They stayed like that for a while.

Arabella still remembers the day she lost her mother. But she didn't lose her all at once. She lost her mother in pieces over time. What she remembered most to this day was her mother's scent and how it started to disappeared. First from her closets, then from her bed sheets and pillowcases. Soon, nothing smelled like her. Nothing smelled like peaches anymore. Everything disappeared, everything was gone. The only thing that was left were the memories.

'Arabella,' said Sirius beside her. He changed into a human when she was lost in her thoughts. 'We have to go now. Remus is calling us.' He voice was different. It was as if he was broken. There were still some tear streaks on his face.

'Okay,' said Arabella, her voice also breaking. 'Change back.'

Sirius turned back into Padfoot and, together, they walked towards the graveyard gates. None of them said anything, nobody made a sound. Arabella grabbed on to Remus's arm as Sirius put his paw on Arabella's leg, and they apparated back to their house.

Without a word, they all went their separate ways. Arabella went upstairs to her room, while Sirius and Remus went to the kitchen, and sat down on the table with a bottle of Firewhisky in between them.

'I should have been there,' said Sirius, his head in his hands. 'I should have been there for Kas. She would still be alive if it wasn't for me. I should have been there.'

'You could still be there,' said Remus, taking a shot. 'Arabella is upstairs, all alone, probably thinking the same think.'

'Yeah, but she was just a baby when it happened,' said Sirius, looking up.

'And you were in Azkaban. There was nothing you could have done,' said Remus. 'Go upstairs and talk to her. You both need each other.'

Sirius took a shot and went upstairs to Arabella's room. It was a really messy room. There were some Gryffindor scarves hanging on the wall and some posters too.

'Why do you have a poster of a Triumph Bonneville T120?' asked Sirius.

'Because I'm going to get one when I'm older,' said Arabella. She was lying on her back facing the ceiling.

'I have one,' said Sirius.

Arabella looked at him.

'You do?' said Arabella, impressed. 'Where is it?'

'Last time I saw it, it was with Hagrid. You play baseball?' said Sirius, indicating to the baseball bat next to her closet.

'Me and Nymph tried to play it a couple time. We were really horrible at it.'

'Sinatra?'

'Still listen to him.'

Sirius gave another look around the room, then sat down on the bed.

'Did you love her?' choked out Arabella.

'I still love her. I will always love her. There's not a day that goes by that I don't miss her.'

'I miss her too. I wish she was here.'

'You and me both.'

'What was she like?'

Sirius smiled at the memories. 'She was… she was amazing. She was kind and had a gentle heart with a sharp wit. She always fought back and loved to prank people. She cared about other people and always put them first.'

'Who was her best friend?'

'She always spent time with Lily. They both had something in common.'

'What?'

'They both couldn't stand me and James.'

'She didn't like you, yet she still married you?'

'Well, we started to become civil to each other in our fifth year. The year, as James used to say, 'Sirius got his head out of his ass and asked Kassandra out.'.'

Sirius and Arabella laughed at this.

'Anyway, she was also really good friends with Fabian and Gideon Prewett. They also spent a lot of time pranking people. Sometime we would have pranking wars. Marauders vs. their Trio. She was also friends with Alice Smith and Frank Longbottom.'

'Frank Longbottom? Neville's father?'

'And mother, Alice. They would always help Kas in a prank war. It was quite unfair, you know.'

Arabella snorted. 'Doubt that.'

'Anyway,' said Sirius, stressing out that word, 'tell me about yourself.'

And they spent the rest of the day telling each other stories. Sirius talked about his days in Hogwarts and some about his family, but not much. Arabella also talked about Hogwarts. They learned each other's favorite colours, brown for Sirius, blue for Arabella. In the end, they tired themselves out and soon fell asleep. Sirius turned back into a dog and snuggled beside Arabella.

* * *

'Wake up Sirius,' said a voice softly. Sirius gave a growl.

'Arabella, come on. The Weasley's will be here soon,' said the voice again. Arabella snuggled closer to Sirius, trying to get more time to sleep.

Remus shook his head and left the room. He went to the kitchen, got a bucket of water and went back upstairs.

_There's going to be hell to pay for this_ he thought as he took the bucket just above them and turned it over.

SPLASH!

Arabella shot right up as Sirius gave a yelp and got off the bed. He changed back into his human form.

'What the hell!' they both screamed.

'Language the both of you,' he said with an amused smile. 'You both weren't getting up, so this was the only resort left.'

'The only resort? There are many other ways to wake us up!' exclaimed Arabella, throwing her hands in the air.

'I'm going to kill you,' said Sirius. 'I was having a nice, peaceful sleep and you had to ruin it. You, sir, must die.'

'You can kill me later. The Weasleys are coming to get you today. Get dressed,' said Remus, not taking either one of the seriously.

Sirius went to the bathroom, all the while muttering 'Revenge' under his breath. Arabella went to the other bathroom and took a quick shower. Once she was done, she went back to her room to make sure she packed everything. They were going to go see the Quidditch World Cup and she was so excited. Once she made sure everything was pack, she brought her trunk, Shay and her Firebolt downstairs where Remus and Sirius were already there. Remus was sitting on the armchair as Sirius, in his dog form, sat on the sofa. Arabella sat down next to him and waited for the Weasleys to come get her.

At eleven o'clock sharp, green flames came from the fireplace as Mrs Weasley came through. Next came Ron, Fred, and George.

'Hello Mrs Weasley,' said Arabella, getting up and hugging her.

'Hello dear. How are you?' asked Mrs Weasley.

'Fine, fine,' said Arabella and went on to hug Ron, Fred and George. Sirius gave a growl as she did that.

'When did you get a dog?' asked Fred, eying Sirius.

'Um… it's not our dog,' said Arabella, looking at Remus for some help.

'We're just watching it for a friend,' said Remus, smoothly.

'What's his name?' said George, walking closer to Sirius to pet him.

'His name is… it's…' said Remus, trying to find a name that wouldn't give anything away.

'It's Snuffles,' said Arabella, quickly. Ron gave a snort beside her and Arabella elbowed him.

'Are you ready?' asked Mrs Weasley. 'All packed?'

Arabella nodded her head and brought her things forward.

'Fred, George, get that,' said Mrs Weasley. Fred and George grabbed on to both sides of the suitcase.

'Geez, Arabella,' said Fred, trying to hold it up.

'What's in this?' said George.

'Clothes, books, colour bombs,' smirked Arabella.

Fred and George immediately let go of the suitcase and their eyes widened.

'Really?' said Fred.

Arabella nodded.

'Fred, George, pick that up and let's go,' said Mrs Weasley impatiently.

Fred and George picked the trunk up and walked to the fireplace. Fred managed to get a handful of Floo Powder and say: 'THE BURROW!' And with a flash of green light, they were gone. Next was Mrs Weasley, and Ron's turn.

'See you Professor Lupin,' said Ron, nodding towards Remus. 'You too, Sirius.'

'Is Hermione or Harry there?' asked Arabella.

'Hermione's there. We're going to go pick Harry up after this.'

As soon as Ron was gone, Sirius turned back into his human form.

'Well,' said Arabella, looking at both of them, 'see ya.'

She hugged Remus first.

'Promise me you'll write?' said Arabella, as her head was buried in his chest.

'Promise,' said Remus, kissed the top of her head. 'Take care and enjoy yourself.'

'I will,' mumbled Arabella.

After a moment, they let go of each other and Remus left the room to the kitchen. Sirius came forward and also hugged her. Arabella felt more comfortable in his arms than before. It just felt right. She was in the arms of her father and she could stay like this forever.

'Take care of yourself,' said Sirius, holding her at arm's length. 'Look out for anything unusual. Watch out for Harry.'

'I will,' said Arabella.

Sirius smiled, kissed her forehead and hugged her again.

'I love you,' said Sirius, hugging her fiercely close to him.

'I love you too, dad,' said Arabella, knowing that she truly meant it. Sirius went still for a moment. 'What's wrong?'

'That's the first time you called me that,' he said happily.

'That is your name you know,' said Arabella knowingly.

'I know,' said Sirius. 'You better go. They're waiting for you.'

'Take care. Try not to be careless. Don't get caught. Go down South somewhere. Try to eat regularly. Take care of Buckbeak. Make sure –'

'I will,' said Sirius, stopping her. 'Don't worry about me. I'll be fine.'

Arabella smiled. 'Bye, Moony!' she shouted out.

Remus came back to the room. 'Bye Arabella.'

With one last look at both of them, Arabella grabbed onto Shay and her Firebolt, and stepped into the fireplace and said 'THE BURROW!'

**Thank you for reading!**


	2. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes

**disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, just Arabella. **

**Hope you like it!**

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes

With a loud THUD, Arabella fell face-down on the floor of the Weasley's living room. Shay was squeaking in his cage at his horrible treatment and her Firebolt was practically thrown across the room.

Two hands came under her armpits and helped her up.

'Thanks,' said Arabella, wiping the dust from her pants.

'No problem,' said Fred.

'Care for some sweet, lovely Arabella?' said George, holding out some candy in his hands.

'What did you do to them?' said Arabella, eying them distastefully.

'Nothing,' said George, sounding offended, which was all an act.

'I am offended,' said Fred, following his brother's lead.

'Highly offended.'

'How could you think that –'

'- we would do something to harm you?'

'Well, what is it?' said Arabella.

'Ton-Tongue Toffee,' said Fred brightly. 'George and I have invented them, and we've been looking for someone to test them on all summer. We would have given some to Professor Lupin, but then we remember that –'

'He was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and could curse you both without breaking a sweat?' said Arabella sweetly.

'Yeah,' said Fred.

'Pretty much,' said George, shrugging.

'Arabella,' said Ron, entering the room, 'come meet the rest of the family.'

'Rest of the family?' said Arabella. 'How many more Weasleys are there?'

'Just Bill and Charlie,' said George, putting his arm around her shoulder.

'Nobody important,' said Fred, also putting his arm around her shoulder.

They walked into the kitchen and saw two other people sitting at the table.

'That's Bill,' said Ron, pointing at him, 'and Charlie.' Pointing at the other.

'How you doing, Arabella?' said Charlie, who was the closet one to her. He was standing up and holding his hand out to her. When Arabella shook his hand, she felt some calluses and blisters under his finger. She remembered the he worked in Romania with dragons. Charlie seemed shorter then Ron, but was built like the twins. His arms were quite muscular and one of them had a large shiny burn on it.

'I'm fine. How's Norbert?' she asked.

Charlie laughed. 'You mean Norberta?'

'He's a she?' said Arabella, astonished. 'How can you tell?'

'Female dragons are more vicious,' he said.

Next, she shook Bill's hand, which came as quite a surprise to her. Bill seemed pretty cool. He was tall, with long hair pulled back into a ponytail. He also had an earring with a fang dangling from it. He looked like he was dressed for a rocket concert, except that his boots were made of dragon hide.

'Where's your mom?' asked Arabella to Ron.

'She's upstairs putting your trunk away and making sure everything's alright,' said Ron.

They all sat down on the table when Mr Weasley came into the kitchen. Arabella got up and gave him and quick hug.

'Hello, Mr Weasley.'

'Arabella! Nice to see you again,' he said delightfully, returning the hug. He turned to look at Ron, Fred and George. 'Boys, we have to go pick Harry up.'

One by one, they all left the room, leaving Arabella with Bill and Charlie. She sat back down on the table, feeling a bit uncomfortable with them.

'So, you're Arabella Black,' said Bill, looking her up and down, like he was debating whether or not she was a sane person.

'Problem?' said Arabella, giving him the same treatment.

'No, no problem,' said Bill, holding his hand up in surrender. 'Everybody seems to like you. No reason for us to hate you.'

'Percy likes me?' said Arabella, raising her eyebrows.

'Well,' said Charlie, looking a bit uncomfortable, 'he doesn't _hate _you.'

'I'll take it,' said Arabella, triumphantly, fist bumping the air in victory. Bill and Charlie laughed. 'So where is Percy?'

'Do you really care?' said Bill.

'Just asking.'

'He's upstairs working on a report for the Ministry.'

'He's working there? _Really_?'

'He seems to like it,' said Bill.

'Really like it,' said Charlie. 'Wouldn't shut up about it.'

'Where's Ginny?'

'Upstairs with Hermione,' said Bill.

They sat there in awkward silence for some time, none of them knowing what to say.

'So – er –' started Arabella, 'which team are you rooting for?'

And they launched into a debate about the Quidditch World Cup. Charlie and Arabella on Ireland side while Bill was rooting for Bulgaria.

'They defeated Peru in the semi-finals,' said Arabella, urging Bill to see her way. 'Peru had no chance.'

'Bulgaria has Victor Krum,' said Bill, shaking his head at her.

'Krum is their only good player. One good player! That's it! Ireland's got seven!'

'Mullet –' said Charlie.

'Lynch –' said Arabella.

'Ryan –'

'Troy! They've got Troy, Bill!'

'The Bulgarian's got Krum, one of the best Seekers in the century, and they've also got Levski –'

'He's not that good,' said Charlie.

'Dimitrov –'

'Give me a break!' said Arabella, throwing her hands up. 'Dimitrov couldn't –'

Arabella's sentence was cut off when the fireplace lit up and Fred came out. He was smiling and made the three other occupants a bit nervous.

'What did you do?' said Charlie.

'What makes you think I've done something?' said Fred, sweetly.

'The look on your face and the fact that you most likely did something than nothing, Fred,' said Arabella.

'How do you know I'm Fred? I could be George,' he said.

'I have my ways of knowing who you are, and that's not the point. What did you do?'

Then George came through with a trunk. He was also smiling.

'There!' said Charlie, pointing towards George. 'Now we know you really did something!'

'Don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about,' said George.

Ron also came out of the fireplace, smiling.

'What was that?' he asked the twins.

'Ton-Tongue Toffee,' said Fred. 'We invented them.'

'Brilliant,' said Ron, laughing.

'What happened?' said Bill, irritated at not knowing what happened.

Ron, Fred and George all sat down at the table and told them what happened at the Dursleys'. By the time Harry came into the kitchen, they all exploded with laughter.

Harry shook Charlie and Bill's hands, then hugged Arabella.

'Good to see you, Harry,' whispered Arabella in his ear.

'I missed you,' said Harry.

'Missed you, too,' said Arabella, thankful for her tanned skin as she knew she was blushing furiously.

They let go of each other and smiled.

Before anybody could say anything else, there was a faint popping noise and Mr Weasley appeared out of thin air at George's shoulder. He was looking angrier than they had ever seen him.

'That wasn't funny Fred!' he shouted. 'What on earth did you give that Muggle boy?'

I didn't give him anything,' said Fred, with another evil grin. 'I just dropped it…It was his fault he went and ate it, I never told him to.'

'You dropped it on purpose!' roared Mr. Weasley. 'You knew he'd eat it, you knew he was on a diet -'

'How big did his tongue get?' George asked eagerly.

'It was four feet long before his parents would let me shrink it!'

Harry, Arabella and the Weasleys roared with laughter again.

'It isn't funny!' Mr. Weasley shouted. 'That sort of behavior seriously undermines wizard Muggle relations! I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of Muggles, and my own sons.'

'We didn't give it to him because he's a Muggle!' said Fred indignantly.

'No, we gave it to him because he's a great bullying git,' said George. 'Isn't he, Harry?'

'Yeah, he is, Mr. Weasley,' said Harry sincerely.

'That's not the point!' raged Mr. Weasley. 'You wait until I tell your mother-'

'Tell me what?' said a voice behind them.

Mrs. Weasley had just entered the kitchen

'Oh hello, Harry, dear,' she said, spotting him and smiling. Then her eyes snapped back to her husband. 'Tell me what, Arthur?'

Mr. Weasley hesitated. Arabella could tell that he wasn't really going to tell her what happened. There was a silence, while Mr Weasley eyed his wife nervously. Then two girls appeared in the kitchen doorway behind Mrs Weasley. One was Hermione, and the other was Ginny. They both smiled at Arabella and Harry, who grinned back.

'Tell me what, Arthur?' Mrs. Weasley repeated, in a dangerous sort of voice.

'It's nothing, Molly,' mumbled Mr. Weasley, 'Fred and George just - but I've had words with them -'

'What have they done this time?' said Mrs. Weasley. 'If it's got anything to do with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes -'

'Why don't you show Harry where he's sleeping, Ron?' said Hermione from the doorway.

'He knows where he's sleeping,' said Ron, 'in my room, he slept there last -'

'We can all go,' said Hermione pointedly.

'Oh,' said Ron, cottoning on. 'Right.'

'Yeah, we'll come too,' said George.

'You stay where you are!' snarled Mrs Weasley.

Arabella, Harry and Ron edged out of the kitchen, and they Hermione, and Ginny set off along the narrow hallway and up the staircase to the upper stories.

'What are Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?' Harry asked they climbed.

Ron and Ginny both laughed, although Hermione didn't.

'Mum found this stack of order forms when she was cleaning Fred and George's room,' said Ron quietly. 'Great long price lists for stuff they've invented. Joke stuff, you know. Fake wands and trick sweets, loads of stuff. It was brilliant, I never knew they'd been inventing all that…'

'We've been hearing explosions out of their room for ages, but we never thought they were actually making things,' said Ginny. 'We thought they just liked the noise.'

'Only, most of the stuff - well, all of it, really - was a bit dangerous,' said Ron, 'and, you know, they were planning to sell it at Hogwarts to make some money, and Mum went mad at them. Told them they weren't allowed to make any more of it, and burned all the order forms…She's furious at them anyway. They didn't get as many O.W.L.s as she expected.'

'And then there was this big row,' Ginny said, 'because Mum wants them to go into the Ministry of Magic like Dad, and they told her all they want to do is open a joke shop.'

Just then a door on the second landing opened, and a face poked out wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a very annoyed expression.

'Hi, Percy,' said Harry.

'Oh hello, Harry, Black,' said Percy. 'I was wondering who was making all the noise. I'm trying to work in here, you know I've got a report to finish for the office – and it's rather difficult to concentrate when people keep thundering up and down the stairs.'

'We're not thundering, 'said Ron irritably. 'We're walking. Sorry if we've disturbed the topsecret workings of the Ministry of Magic.'

'What are you working on?' said Harry.

'A report for the Department of International Magical Cooperation,' said Percy smugly. 'We're trying to standardize cauldron thickness. Some of these foreign imports are just a shade too thin - leakages have been increasing at a rate of almost three percent a year -'

'That'll change the world, that report will,' said Ron. 'Front page of the Daily Prophet, I expect, cauldron leaks.'

Percy went slightly pink.

'You might sneer, Ron,' he said heatedly, 'but unless some sort of international law is imposed we might well find the market flooded with flimsy, shallow bottomed products that seriously endanger -'

'Yeah, yeah, all right,' said Ron, and he started off upstairs again. Percy slammed his bedroom door shut. As Arabella, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny followed Ron up three more flights of stairs. The room at the top of the house where Ron slept looked the same from when Arabella saw it before. There was an owl hopping up and down in a small cage and twittering madly.

'Shut up, Pig,' said Ron, edging his way between two of the four beds that had been squeezed into the room. 'Fred and George are in here with us, because Bill and Charlie are in their room,' he told Harry. 'Percy gets to keep his room all to himself because he's got to work.'

'Er - why are you calling that owl Pig?' Harry asked Ron.

'Because he's being stupid,' said Ginny, 'Its proper name is Pigwidgeon.'

'What kind of a name is that?' said Arabella, making a face.

'Ginny reckons it's sweet. And I tried to change it, but it was too late, he wont answer to anything else. So now it's Pig. I've got to keep him up here because he annoys Errol and Hermes. He annoys me too come to that.'

'Where's Crookshanks?' Harry asked Hermione now.

'Out in the garden, I expect,' she said. 'He likes chasing gnomes. He's never seen any before.'

'And Shay?' Harry asked to Arabella.

'I think Fred set him off somewhere. I don't know, I'll find him later,' said Arabella, shrugging.

'Percy's enjoying work, then?' said Harry, sitting down on one of the beds and watching the Chudley Cannons zooming in and out of the posters on the ceiling.

'Enjoying it?' said Ron darkly. 'I don't reckon he'd come home if Dad didn't make him. He's obsessed. Just don't get him onto the subject of his boss. According to Mr. Crouch…as I was saying to Mr. Crouch…Mr. Crouch is of the opinion…Mr. Crouch was telling me…They'll be announcing their engagement any day now.'

'Have you had a good summer, Harry?' said Hermione. 'Did you get our food parcels and everything?'

'Yeah, thanks a lot,' said Harry. 'They saved my life, those cakes.'

'Have to two of you heard from-?' Ron began, but a look from Hermione he fell silent. Arabella knew he was going to ask about Sirius.

'I think they've stopped arguing,' said Hermione, to cover the awkward moment, because Ginny was looking curiously from Ron to Arabella to Harry. 'Shall we go down and help your mum with dinner?'

'Yeah, all right,' said Ron. The five of them left Ron's room and went back downstairs to find Mrs Weasley alone in the kitchen, looking extremely bad-tempered.

'We're eating out in the garden,' she said when they came in. 'There's just not room for twelve people in here. Could you take the plates outside, girls? Bill and Charlie are setting up the tables. Knives and forks, please, you two,' she said to Ron and Harry, pointing her wand a little more vigorously than she had intended at a pile of potatoes in the sink, which shot out of their skins so fast that they ricocheted off the walls and ceiling.

Arabella, Hermione and Ginny grabbed the plates and went outside where Bill, Charlie and the twins were. Bill and Charlie were hovering the tables above the ground and trying to find a place to put them.

'Let's make this a bit interesting William,' said Charlie, a smile forming on his face.

'Right you are Charles,' said Bill. With a flick of his wand his table collided with Charlie's. Charlie retaliated and his table smashed into Bill's.

Fred, George and Arabella were cheering, Ginny was laughing, and Hermione was torn between amusement and anxiety. Harry and Ron came out just as Bill's table caught Charlie's with a huge bang and knocked out one of its legs off. There was a clatter from overhead, and they all looked up to see Percy's head poking out of a window on the second floor.

'Will you keep it down?!' he bellowed.

'Sorry, Perce,' said Bill, grinning. 'How're the cauldron bottoms coming on?'

'Very badly,' said Percy peevishly, and he slammed the window shut. Chuckling, Bill and Charlie directed the tables safely onto the grass, end to end, and then, with a flick of his wand, Bill reattached the table leg and conjured tablecloths from nowhere.

By seven o'clock, the two tables were covered with dishes of Mrs Weasley's excellent cooking, and the nine Weasleys, Arabella, Harry, and Hermione were settling themselves down to eat beneath the clear blue sky.

Arabella immediately got into a conversation with Fred, George and Charlie about the World Cup.

'It's got to be Ireland,' said Charlie thickly, through a mouthful of potato. 'They flattened Peru in the semifinals.'

'Bulgaria has got Victor Krum, though,' said Fred.

'That's only one good player,' said Arabella, pointing her knife at Fred while eating some green peas. 'Ireland's got seven.'

'I wish England had got through. That was embarrassing,' said Charlie.

'What happened?' said Harry eagerly.

'It was quite horrible,' said Arabella gloomily. 'Went down to Transylvania, three hundred and ninety to ten. Wales lost to Uganda, and Scotland was slaughtered by Luxembourg.'

Charlie was shaking his head where he was sitting.

Mr Weasley conjured up candles to light the darkening garden before they had their homemade strawberry ice cream. Arabella was feeling extremely well fed and at peace with the world as she watched the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione around her.

Ron looked carefully up the table to check that the rest of the family were all busy taking, then he said very quietly to Harry, 'So – have you heard from Sirius lately?'

'Yeah,' said Harry softly, 'twice. He sounds okay. I wrote to him yesterday. He might write back while I'm here.'

'He was at my house,' whispered Arabella to Harry so that only he could hear. 'He's fine and he should be heading down South right now.'

'He came to your house?' asked Harry eagerly.

'Just for the night. We – er – had to do something with Moony together. I'll tell you about it later.'

'Look at the time,' Mrs Weasley suddenly, checking her wristwatch. 'You really should be in bed, the whole lot of you you'll be up at the crack of dawn to get to the cup. Harry, Arabella, if you leave your school list out, I'll get your things for you tomorrow in Diagon Alley. I'm getting everyone else's. there might not be time after the World cup, the match went on for five days last time.'

'Wow – hope it does this time!' said Harry enthusiastically.

'Well, I certainly don't,' said Percy. 'I shudder to think what the state of my in-tray would be if I was away from work for five days.'

'Yeah, someone might slip dragon dung in it again, eh, Perce?' said Fred.

'That was a sample of fertilizer from Norway!' said Percy, going very red in the face. 'It was nothing personal!'

'It was,' Fred whispered to Harry and Arabella as they got up from the table. 'We sent it.'

* * *

Arabella just got a glass of water and was about to go to Ginny's bedroom to sleep when she was suddenly pulled to the bathroom by someone.

'Argh – what -?' She turned around and saw that it was Harry.

'What the hell is your problem?' Arabella asked. With each word, she found a place to hit Harry.

'Ow – okay – stop it!' he tried to block her, but it was no use.

'What do you want?' snapped Arabella.

'I just wanted to know what happened when Sirius visited,' said Harry, innocently.

'And you couldn't ask me like a normal person? You just had to pull me into the bathroom with a warning,' said Arabella, crossing her arms irritated.

Harry shrugged sheepishly and Arabella sighed.

'Okay, well, we had some breakfast in the morning – he eats like a pig by the way – then we visited my mother's grave.'

'Oh,' said Harry, looking uncomfortable and a bit embarrassed. 'I'm sorry, I didn't –'

'It's okay, not your fault,' said Arabella, waving him off.

'How was he when… you guys – er –'

'He was sad, we were all sad,' said Arabella, felling a bit miserable.

'Sorry,' said Harry, looking down at his shoes, then he pulled Arabella into a gentle hug. Arabella sighed, closed her eyes and slowly eased into the hug. It was nice.

'We mostly talked about my mom. He seemed to be really happy doing that,' mumbled Arabella into Harry's shoulders. He nodded.

Arabella pulled away slightly and looked at Harry's face.

'Thank you,' she said.

'For what?' he mumbled.

'The hug,' said Arabella, noticing how green his eyes were looking. They were a magnificent, deep green colour that she almost got lost in.

'No problem,' said Harry absentmindedly.

They stood like this for a while. Harry's hands on Arabella's hips, while her hands where on his shoulders. And very, very slowly, Harry's face inched closer towards hers. Arabella felt a blush creeping on her neck. She did not move away from him, but pulled him closer by placing her hands on his hips. He was so closer, she could fell his breath getting –

BAM

The bathroom door flew open and Harry and Arabella jumped away from each other. On the other side of the open door were Bill, Charlie, Ron, Fred, and George. They were all grinning wickedly at Harry and Arabella.

'What are you doing?' said George, looking quite evil.

'Nothing,' said Harry and Arabella instantly.

'Really?' said Bill, raising his eyebrow. 'Doesn't look like nothing.'

'It's nothing,' said Harry. 'We were just – er – we were…'

'Talking,' said Arabella quickly. 'We were talking.'

'I never talked to girls in the bathroom like this,' teased Charlie.

'That's because you never had any girls in the house,' said Bill.

'I mean Hogwarts, but we're getting off topic,' said Charlie. 'What is going on?'

'Yes,' said Fred, looking at the two of them with a wicked grin.

'What is going on?' said George.

'Do we need to defend your honour, Lady Arabella?' said Fred.

'No,' said Arabella, shortly. 'Nothing happened.'

'Yeah, we're just friends,' said Harry hastily. Arabella felt something drop in her stomach.

'Yeah,' said Arabella, putting on a smile, 'just friends. Excuse me.'

Arabella moved past them and went to Ginny's room, where she was bunking with her and Hermione.

They boys looked at Harry with annoyed looks.

'What did I say?' said Harry.

'You called her your friend,' said Bill, shaking his head.

'And…' said Harry, clearly not understanding.

'Harry, mate, you don't call someone you like, and someone who likes you, your friend,' said Ron, finally speaking. He was shaking his head at his best friend's stupidity.

'So I –'

'Messed up,' said Bill.

'Big time,' said Fred and George.

**Thank you for reading!**


	3. The Portkey

**disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, just Arabella. **

**Hope you like it!**

The Portkey

Arabella felt as though she had barely lain down to sleep when she was being shaken awake by Mrs Weasley.

'Time to go, Arabella, dear,' she whispered, moving away to the door.

Arabella slowly got up to see that it was still dark outside. Ginny was groaning a bit from her bed, while Hermione was slowly getting to her feet.

They all dressed in silence, too sleepy to talk, then the three of them walked downstairs to the kitchen. Everybody else was there, except for Bill, Charlie, and Percy.

'Why do we have to be up so early?' Ginny said, rubbing her eyes and sitting down at the table.

'We've got a bit of a walk,' said Mr Weasley.

'Walk?' said Harry. 'What, are we walking to the World Cup?'

'No, no, that's miles away,' said Mr Weasley, smiling. 'We only need to walk a short way. It's just that it's very difficult for a large number of wizards to congregate without attracting Muggle attention. We have to be very careful about how we travel at the best of times, and on a huge occasion like the Quidditch World Cup…'

'George!' said Mrs Weasley sharply, and they all jumped.

'What?' said George, in an innocent tone that deceived nobody.

'What is that in your pocket?'

'Nothing!'

'Don't you lie to me!'

Mrs. Weasley pointed her wand at George's pocket and said, 'Accio!'

Several small, brightly colored objects zoomed out of George's pocket; he made a grab for them but missed, and they sped right into Mrs. Weasley's outstretched hand.

'We told you to destroy them!' said Mrs. Weasley furiously, holding up what were unmistakably more Ton-Tongue Toffees. 'We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, both of you!'

It was an unpleasant scene; the twins had evidently been trying to smuggle as many toffees out of the house as possible, and it was only by using her Summoning Charm that Mrs. Weasley managed to find them all.

'Accio! Accio! Accio!' she shouted, and toffees zoomed from all sorts of unlikely places, including the lining of George's jacket and the turn-ups of Fred's jeans.

'We spent six months developing those!' Fred shouted at his mother as she threw the toffees away.

'Oh a fine way to spend six months!' she shrieked. 'No wonder you didn't get more O.W.L.s!'

All in all, the atmosphere was not very friendly as they took their departure. Mrs. Weasley was still glowering as she kissed Mr. Weasley on the cheek, though not nearly as much as the twins, who had each hoisted their rucksacks onto their backs and walked out without a word to her.

Arabella felt bad for the twins. It was their passion and they really worked hard on those sweets. She thought that she could do something that might lift their spirits, probably something that might set off, like a colour bomb…

'Well, have a lovely time,' said Mrs. Weasley, 'and behave yourselves,' she called after the twins' retreating backs, but they did not look back or answer. 'I'll send Bill, Charlie, and Percy along around midday,' Mrs. Weasley said to Mr. Weasley, as he, Harry, Ron, Arabella, Hermione, and Ginny set off across the dark yard after Fred and George.

Arabella walked beside Hermione and Ginny was Harry sped up to walk with Mr Weasley. She decided that she wouldn't bring up what happened last night if he doesn't. She didn't want to make a big deal of something if it was going to blow up in her face in the end. It was better this way.

'Where is this place?' asked Ginny.

'No idea,' said Arabella. 'Who are we waiting for?'

'The Diggorys,' said Ginny.

They kept walking to the point where Hermione was clutching her sides and huffing as they finally reached the hill.

'Now we just need the Portkey,' said Mr Weasley, replacing his glasses and squinting around at the ground. 'It won't be big… Come on…'

They spread out, searching. They had only been at it for a couple minutes, however, when a shout rent the still air.

'Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it.'

Two tall figures were silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop.

'Amos!' said Mr. Weasley, smiling as he strode over to the man who had shouted. The rest of them followed.

Mr. Weasley was shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a scrubby brown beard, who was holding a moldy-looking old boot in his other hand.

'This is Amos Diggory, everyone,' said Mr. Weasley. 'He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?'

Arabella remembered Cedric Diggory from one of the Quidditch games last year. He was Captian and Seeker of the Hufflepuff House Quidditch team. He was extremely handsome.

'Hi,' said Cedric, looking around at them all. Everybody said hi back except Fred and George, who merely nodded. They had never quite forgiven Cedric for beating their team, Gryffindor, in the first Quidditch match of the previous year.

'Long walk, Arthur?' Cedric's father asked.

'Not too bad,' said Mr. Weasley. 'We live just on the other side of the village there. You?'

'Had to get up at two, didn't we, Ced? I tell you, I'll be glad when he's got his Apparition test. Still…not complaining…Quidditch World Cup, wouldn't miss it for a sackful of Galleons - and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, looks like I got off easy…' Amos Diggory peered good-naturedly around at the three Weasley boys, Harry, Arabella, Hermione, and Ginny. 'All these yours, Arthur?'

'Oh no only the redheads,' said Mr Weasley, pointing out his children. 'This is Hermione, friend of Ron's – and Arabella, another friend –'

'Arabella?' said Amos. 'You look familiar…'

'My mother was Kassandra and my father's Sirius Black,' said Arabella.

'Ah, yes, Kassandra, very kind woman. Sorry about your lost,' said Amos.

'- and Harry, another friend-' said Mr Weasley.

'Merlin's beard,' said Amos, his eyes widening. 'Harry? Harry Potter?'

'Er – yeah,' said Harry.

'Ced's talked about you, of course,' said Amos Diggory. 'Told us all about playing against you last year…I said to him, I said - Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will…You beat Harry Potter!'

Fred and George were both scowling again. Cedric looked slightly embarrassed.

'Harry fell off his broom, Dad,' he muttered. 'I told you…it was an accident…'

'Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you?' roared Amos genially, slapping his son on his back. 'Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman… but the best man won, I'm sure Harry'd say the same, wouldn't you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don't need to be a genius to tell which one's the better flier!'

'Must be nearly time,' said Mr. Weasley quickly, pulling out his watch again. 'Do you know whether we're waiting for any more, Amos?'

'No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets,' said Mr. Diggory. 'There aren't any more of us in this area, are there?'

'Not that I know of,' said Mr. Weasley. 'Yes, it's a minute off…We'd better get ready…'

He looked around at Harry and Hermione. 'You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all, a finger will do -'

With difficulty, owing to their bulky backpacks, the ten of them crowded around the old boot held out by Amos Diggory. They all stood there, in a tight circle, as a chill breeze swept over the hilltop.

'Three…' muttered Mr. Weasley, one eye still on his watch, 'two…one…'

It happened immediately as they touched the old boot. Arabella felt her feet leave the ground. She felt Hermione and Fred on either side of her, their shoulders banging into hers. Then her feet slammed into the ground. Ron staggered into Harry and fell over. Hermione bumped into Arabella and they both fell over to Fred, who knocked George down. The Portkey hit the ground with a heavy thud. Mr Weasley, Mr Diggory, and Cedric were still standing while everybody else was on the ground.

'Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill,' said a voice.

**Thank you for reading!**


	4. Bagman and Crouch

**disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, just Arabella. **

**Hope you like it!**

Bagman and Crouch

Arabella managed to untangle herself from Hermione and the twins, and got to her feet. They had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted hill. In front of them was a pair of tired and grumpy-looking wizards, one of whom was holding a large gold watch, the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill. Both were dressed as Muggles, though very inexpertly. The man with the watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes; his colleague, a kilt and a poncho.

'Morning, Basil,' said Mr Weasley, picking up the boot and handing it to the kilted wizard, who threw it into a large box of used Portkeys beside him.

'Hello there, Arthur,' said Basil wearily. 'Not on duty, eh? It's all right for some… We've been here all night… You'd better get out of the way, we've got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five fifteen. Hang on, I'll find your campsite… Weasley… Weasley…' He looked at the parchment list. 'About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you come to. Site manager's called Mr Roberts. Diggory… second field… ask for Mr Payne.'

'Thanks, Basil,' said Mr Weasley, and he beckoned everyone to follow him. They set off across the deserted hill, unable to make much through the mist.

After about twenty minutes, a small stone cottage next to a gate swan into view. Beyond it, Arabella could make out about a hundred something tents. They said good-bye to the Diggorys and approached the cottage door. A man was standing in the doorway, looking out at the tents. When he heard their footsteps, he turned his head to look at them.

'Morning!' said Mr Weasley brightly.

'Morning,' said the man.

'Would you be Mr Roberts?'

'Aye, I would,' said Mr Roberts. 'And who're you?'

'Weasley – two tents, booked a couple of days ago?'

'Aye,' said Mr Roberts, consulting a list tacked to the door. 'You've got a space by the wood there. Just the one night?'

'That's it,' said Mr Weasley.

'You'll be pay now, then?' said Mr Roberts.

'Ah - right - certainly -' said Mr. Weasley. He retreated a short distance from the cottage and beckoned Harry toward him. 'Help me, Harry,' he muttered, pulling a roll of Muggle money from his pocket and starting to peel the notes apart. 'This one's a - a - a ten? Ah yes, I see the little number on it now…So this is a five?'

'A twenty,' Harry corrected him in an undertone, uncomfortably aware of Mr. Roberts trying to catch every word.

'Ah yes, so it is…I don't know, these little bits of paper…'

'You foreign?' said Mr. Roberts as Mr. Weasley returned with the correct notes.

'Foreign?' repeated Mr. Weasley, puzzled.

'You're not the first one who's had trouble with money,' said Mr. Roberts, scrutinizing Mr. Weasley closely. 'I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago.'

'Did you really?' said Mr. Weasley nervously.

Mr. Roberts rummaged around in a tin for some change.

'Never been this crowded,' he said suddenly, looking out over the misty field again. 'Hundreds of pre-bookings. People usually just turn up…'

'Is that right?' said Mr. Weasley, his hand held out for his change, but Mr. Roberts didn't give it to him.

'Aye,' he said thoughtfully. 'People from all over. Loads of foreigners. And not just foreigners. Weirdos, you know? There's a bloke walking 'round in a kilt and a poncho.'

'Shouldn't he?' said Mr. Weasley anxiously

'It's like some sort of…I dunno…like some sort of rally,' said Mr. Roberts. 'They all seem to know each other. Like a big party.'

At that moment, a wizard in plus-fours appeared out of thin air next to Mr. Roberts's front door.

'Obliviate!' he said sharply, pointing his wand at Mr. Roberts.

Instantly, Mr. Roberts's eyes slid out of focus, his brows unknitted, and a took of dreamy unconcern fell over his face. Harry recognized the symptoms of one who had just had his memory modified.

'A map of the campsite for you,' Mr. Roberts said placidly to Mr. Weasley. 'And your change.'

'Thanks very much,' said Mr. Weasley.

The wizard accompanied them toward the gate to the campsite. He looked exhausted. Once out of ear shot of Mr Roberts, he muttered to Mr Weasley, 'Been having a lot of trouble with him. Needs a Memory Charm ten times a day to keep him happy. And Ludo Bagman's not helping. Trotting around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice, not a worry about anti-Muggle security. Blimey, I'll be glad when this is over. See you later, Arthur.' He Disapparated.

'I thought Mr Bagman was Head of Magical Games and Sports,' said Ginny, looking surprised. 'He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles, shouldn't he?'

'He should,' said Mr Weasley, smiling and leading them through the gates into the campsite, 'but Ludo's always been a bit… well… lax about security. You couldn't wish for a more enthusiastic head of the sports department though. He played Quidditch for England himself, you know. And he was the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had.'

They moved through the long rows of tents. Each more extravagant than the previous.

'Always the same,' said Mr Weasley, smiling. 'We can't resist showing off when we get together. Ah, here we are, look, this is us.'

They had reached the very edge of the wood at the top of the field, and here was an empty space, with a small sign hammered into the ground that read WEEZLEY.

'Couldn't have a better spot!' said Mr Weasley happily. 'The field is just on the other side of the wood there, we're so lose as we could be.' He hoisted his backpack from his shoulders. 'Right,' he said excitedly, 'no magic allowed, strictly speaking, not when we're out in these numbers on Muggle land. We'll be putting these tents up by hand! Shouldn't be too difficult… Muggle do it all the time… Here, Harry, where do you reckon we should start?'

Harry had never been camping in his life. However he, Hermione and Arabella worked out where most of the poles and pegs should go, and though Mr Weasley was more of a hindrance than a help, because he got thoroughly overexcited when it came to using the mallet, they finally managed to erect a pair of shabby two-man tents.

Mr Weasley dropped to his hands and knees and entered the first tent.

'We'll be a bit cramped,' he called, 'but I think we'll all squeeze in. come and have a look.'

The Weasleys all entered first.

'Are we all going to fit?' said Harry to Arabella, just as she was about to go inside.

'Yeah,' said Arabella, a bit puzzled at the question, 'why?'

'It's a bit small, isn't it?' asked Hermione.

'Hermione, what are we?' asked Arabella.

'What does that –'

'Wizards and witches,' said Harry, understanding a bit.

'Exactly,' said Arabella with a smirk. 'You'll see.'

And she disappeared behind the tent flap. Harry and Hermione looked at each other before Harry bent down, ducked under the tent flap, and felt his jaw drop. He had walked into what looked like an old-fashioned, three room flat, complete with bathroom and kitchen.

'Well, it's not for long,' said Mr. Weasley, mopping his bald patch with a handkerchief and peering in at the four bunk beds that stood in the bedroom. 'I borrowed this from Perkins at the office. Doesn't camp much anymore, poor fellow, he's got lumbago.'

He picked up the dusty kettle and peered inside it. 'We'll need water…'

'There's a tap marked on this map the Muggle gave us,' said Ron. 'It's on the other side of the field.'

'Well, why don't you, Harry, Arabella and Hermione go and get us some water then' - Mr. Weasley handed over the kettle and a couple of saucepans - 'and the rest of us will get some wood for a fire?'

'But we've got an oven,' said Ron. 'Why can't we just -'

'Ron, anti-Muggle security!' said Mr. Weasley, his face shining with anticipation. 'When real Muggles camp, they cook on fires outdoors. I've seen them at it!'

After a quick tour of the girls' tent which was slightly smaller than the boys', Harry, Ron, Arabella and Hermione set off across the campsite with the kettle and saucepans.

They made their way slowly through the rows of tents, staring eagerly around. Their fellow campers were starting to wake up. First to stir were the families with small children. Here and there adult wizards and witches were emerging from their tents and starting to cook breakfast. Some, with furtive looks around them, conjured fire with their wands; other with striking matches with dubious look on their faces. Arabella caught bits of conversations in strange languages from around them as they passed, and did not understand a single word, but found it all very exciting.

'Er – is it my eyes, or has everything gone green?' said Ron.

It wasn't just Ron's eyes. They had walked into a patch of tents that were all covered with a thick growth of shamrocks. Grinning faces could be seen under those that had their flaps open. Then, from behind them, they heard their names.'

'Harry! Ron! Arabella! Hermione!'

It was Seamus Finnigan. He was sitting in front of his own shamrock-covered tent with a sandy-haired woman who had to be his mother, and his best friend, Dean Thomas.

'Like the decorations?' said Seamus, grinning. 'The Ministry's not too happy.'

'Ah, why shouldn't we show our colours?' said Mrs Finnigan. 'You should see what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents. You'll be supporting Ireland, of course?' she added, eyeing Harry, Ron, Arabella and Hermione beadily. When they had assured her that they were indeed supporting Ireland, they set off again, though, as Ron said, 'Like we'd say anything else surrounded by that lot.'

'I wonder what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents?' said Hermione.

'Let's go look,' said Arabella, pointing to a large patch of tents upfield, where the Bulgarian flag was fluttering in the breeze. Every one of the tents had the same poster attached to it, a poster of a very surly face with heavy black eyebrows. They was moving, but all it did was blink and scowl.

'Krum,' said Ron quietly.

'What?' said Hermione.

'Krum!' said Ron. 'Victor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker!'

'He looks really grumpy,' said Hermione, looking around at the many Krums blinking and scowling at them.

'Really grumpy?' Ron raised his eyes to the heavens. 'Who cares what he looks like? He's unbelievable. He's really young too. Only just eighteen or something. He's a genius, you wait until tonight, you'll see.'

Arabella nodded beside him.

'He's the only good player on the team,' she said.

There was already a small queue for the tap in the corner of the field. Harry, Ron, Arabella and Hermione joined it, right behind a pair of men who were having a heated argument. One of them was a very old wizard who was wearing a long flowery nightgown. The other was clearly a Ministry wizard; he was holding up a pain of pinstriped trousers and almost crying with exasperation.

'Just put them on, Archie, there's a good chap. You can't walk around like that, the Muggle at the gate's already getting suspicious –

'I bought this in a Muggle shop,' said the old wizard stubbornly. 'Muggles wear them.'

'Muggle women wear them, Archie, not the men, they wear these,' said the Ministry wizard, and he brandished the pinstriped trousers.

'I'm not putting them on,' said old Archie in indignation. 'I like a healthy breeze 'round my privates, thanks.'

Arabella and Hermione was overcome with such a fit of giggles at this point that they had to duck under the queue and only returned when Archie had collected his water and moved away. Walking more slowly now, they made their way back through the campsite. Here and there, they saw familiar faces: other Hogwarts students with their families. Oliver Wood dragged Harry over to his parents' tent to introduce him, and told him excitedly that he had just been signed to the Puddlemore United rserve team. Next they were hailed by Ernie Macmillan, who stopped to chat with them a bit about which team they were rooting for.

'You've been ages,' said George when they finally got back to the Weasleys' tents.

'Met a few people,' said Ron, setting the water down. 'You've not got that fire started yet?'

'Dad's having fun with the matches,' said Fred.

Mr. Weasley was having no success at all in lighting the fire, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Splintered matches littered the ground around him, but he looked as though he was having the time of his life.

'Oops!' he said as he managed to light a match and promptly dropped it in surprise.

'Come here, Mr. Weasley,' said Hermione kindly, taking the box from him, and showing him how to do it properly.

At least they got the fire lit, though it was at least another hour before it was hot enough to cook anything. There was plenty to watch while they waited, however. Their tent seemed to be pitched right alongside a kind of access road to the field, and the Ministry members kept hurrying up and down it, greeting Mr Weasley as they passed. Mr Weasley kept up a running commentary, mainly for Harry's, Arabella's and Hermione's benefit; his own children knew too much about the Ministry to be greatly interested.

'That was Cuthbert Mockridge, Head of the Goblin Liaison Office…Here comes Gilbert Wimple; he's with the Committee on Experimental Charms; he's had those horns for a while now…Hello, Arnie…Arnold Peasegood, he's an Obliviator - member of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, you know…and that's Bode and Croaker…they're Unspeakables…'

'They're what?'

'From the Department of Mysteries, top secret, no idea what they get up to…'

At last, the fire was ready, and they had just started cooking eggs and sausages when Bill, Charlie, and Percy came strolling out of the woods toward them.

'Just Apparated, Dad,' said Percy loudly. 'Ah, excellent, lunch!'

They were halfway through their plates of eggs and sausages when Mr. Weasley jumped to his feet, waving and grinning at a man who was striding toward them.

'Aha!' he said. 'The man of the moment! Ludo!'

Ludo Bagman was easily the most noticeable person Harry had seen so far, even including old Archie in his flowered nightdress. He was wearing long Quidditch robes in thick horizontal stripes of bright yellow and black. An enormous picture of a wasp was splashed across his chest. He had the look of a powerfully built man gone slightly to seed; the robes were stretched tightly across a large belly he surely had not had in the days when he had played Quidditch for England. His nose was squashed (probably broken by a stray Bludger, Harry thought), but his round blue eyes, short blond hair, and rosy complexion made him look like a very overgrown schoolboy.

'Ahoy there!' Bagman called happily. He was walking as though he had springs attached to the balls of his feet and was plainly in a state of wild excitement.

'Arthur, old man,' he puffed as he reached the campfire, 'what a day, eh? What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming…and hardly a hiccough in the arrangements… Not much for me to do!'

Behind him, a group of haggard-looking Ministry wizards rushed past, pointing at the distant evidence of some sort of a magical fire that was sending violet sparks twenty feet into the air.

Percy hurried forward with his hand outstretched. Apparently his disapproval of the way Ludo Bagman ran his department did not prevent him from wanting to make a good impression.

'Ah - yes,' said Mr. Weasley, grinning, 'this is my son Percy. He's just started at the Ministry - and this is Fred - no, George, sorry - that's Fred - Bill, Charlie, Ron - my daughter, Ginny and Ron's friends, Hermione Granger, Arabella Black and Harry Potter.'

Bagman gave Arabella a slightly terrified look, but did the smallest of double takes when he heard Harry's name, and his eyes performed the familiar flick upward to the scar on Harry's forehead.

'Everyone,' Mr Weasley continued, 'this is Ludo Bagman, you know who he is, it's thanks to him we've got such good tickets –'

Bagman beamed and waved his hand as if to say it had been nothing.

'Fancy a flutter on the match, Arthur?' he said eagerly, jingling what seemed to be a large amount of gold in the pockets of his yellow-and-black robes. 'I've already got Roddy Pontner betting me Bulgaria will score first - I offered him nice odds, considering Ireland's front three are the strongest I've seen in years - and little Agatha Timms has put up half shares in her eel farm on a weeklong match.'

'Oh…go on then,' said Mr. Weasley. 'Let's see…a Galleon on Ireland to win?'

'A Galleon?' Ludo Bagman looked slightly disappointed, but recovered himself. 'Very well, very well…any other takers?'

'They're a bit young to be gambling,' said Mr. Weasley. 'Molly wouldn't like -'

'We'll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts,' said Fred as he and George quickly pooled all their money, 'that Ireland wins - but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch. Oh and we'll throw in a fake wand.'

From beside Harry, Arabella choked on a bit of her tea.

'You don't want to go showing Mr. Bagman rubbish like that,' Percy hissed, but Bagman didn't seem to think the wand was rubbish at all; on the contrary, his boyish face shone with excitement as he took it from Fred, and when the wand gave a loud squawk and turned into a rubber chicken, Bagman roared with laughter.

'Excellent! I haven't seen one that convincing in years! I'd pay five Galleons for that!'

Percy froze in an attitude of stunned disapproval.

'Boys,' said Mr. Weasley under his breath, 'I don't want you betting…That's all your savings…Your mother -'

'Don't be a spoilsport, Arthur!' boomed Ludo Bagman, rattling his pockets excitedly. 'They're old enough to know what they want! You reckon Ireland will win but Krum'll get the Snitch? Not a chance, boys, not a chance…I'll give you excellent odds on that one…We'll add five Galleons for the funny wand, then, shall we…'

Mr. Weasley looked on helplessly as Ludo Bagman whipped out a notebook and quill and began jotting down the twins' names.

'Cheers,' said George, taking the slip of parchment Bagman handed him and tucking it away carefully. Bagman turned most cheerfully back to Mr. Weasley.

'Couldn't do me a brew, I suppose? I'm keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian opposite number's making difficulties, and I can't understand a word he's saying. Barty'll be able to sort it out. He speaks about a hundred and fifty languages.'

'Mr. Crouch?' said Percy, suddenly abandoning his look of poker-stiff disapproval and positively writhing with excitement. 'He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll…'

'Anyone can speak Troll,' said Fred dismissively. 'All you have to do is point and grunt.'

Percy threw Fred an extremely nasty look and stoked the fire vigorously to bring the kettle back to the boil.

'Any news of Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?' Mr. Weasley asked as Bagman settled himself down on the grass beside them all.

'Not a dicky bird,' said Bagman comfortably. 'But she'll turn up. Poor old Bertha…memory like a leaky cauldron and no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it. She'll wander back into the office sometime in October, thinking it's still July.'

'You don't think it might be time to send someone to look for her?' Mr. Weasley suggested tentatively as Percy handed Bagman his tea.

'Barty Crouch keeps saying that,' said Bagman, his round eyes widening innocently, 'but we really can't spare anyone at the moment. Oh - talk of the devil! Barty!'

A wizard had just Apparated at their fireside and he could not have made more of a contrast with Ludo Bagman. Barty Crouch was a stiff, upright, elderly man, dressed in a crisp suit and tie. Arabella growled at the sight of him, and clutched her tea cup so tightly that her knuckles started to turn white.

'You okay?' said Harry whispered, touched the pale hand slightly. Her hand relaxed a bit under his touch.

'No,' said Arabella, watching Crouch.

'Pull up a bit of grass, Barry,' said Ludo brightly, patting the ground beside him.

'No thank you, Ludo,' said Crouch, and there was a bite of impatience in his voice. 'I've been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top Box.'

'Oh is that what they're after?' said Bagman. 'I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent.'

'Mr. Crouch!' said Percy breathlessly, sunk into a kind of half bow that made him look like a hunchback. 'Would you like a cup of tea?'

'Oh,' said Mr. Crouch, looking over at Percy in mild surprise. 'Yes - thank you, Weatherby.'

Fred and George choked into their own cups. Arabella smiled slightly at this, but kept watching him. Percy, very pink around the ears, busied himself with the kettle.

'Oh and I've been wanting a word with you too, Arthur,' said Mr. Crouch, his sharp eyes falling upon Mr. Weasley. 'Ali Bashir's on the warpath. He wants a word with you about your embargo on flying carpets.'

Mr. Weasley heaved a deep sigh.

'I sent him an owl about that just last week. If I've told him once I've told him a hundred times: Carpets are defined as a Muggle Artifact by the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects, but will he listen?'

'I doubt it,' said Mr. Crouch, accepting a cup from Percy. 'He's desperate to export here.'

'Well, they'll never replace brooms in Britain, will they?' said Bagman.

'Ali thinks there's a niche in the market for a family vehicle,' said Mr. Crouch. 'I remember my grandfather had an Axminster that could seat twelve - but that was before carpets were banned, of course.'

He spoke as though he wanted to leave nobody in any doubt that all his ancestors had abided strictly by the law.

'So, been keeping busy, Barty?' said Bagman breezily.

'Fairly,' said Mr. Crouch dryly. 'Organizing Portkeys across five continents is no mean feat, Ludo.'

'I expect you'll both be glad when this is over?' said Mr. Weasley.

Ludo Bagman looked shocked.

'Glad! Don't know when I've had more fun…Still, it's not as though we haven't got anything to took forward to, eh, Barty? Eh? Plenty left to organize, eh?'

Mr. Crouch raised his eyebrows at Bagman.

'We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details -'

'Oh details!' said Bagman, waving the word away like a cloud of midges. 'They've signed, haven't they? They've agreed, haven't they? I bet you anything these kids'll know soon enough anyway. I mean, it's happening at Hogwarts -'

'Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know,' said Mr. Crouch sharply, cutting Bagman's remarks short. 'Thank you for the tea, Weatherby.'

He pushed his undrunk tea back at Percy and waited for Ludo to rise; Bagman struggled to his feet, swigging down the last of his tea, the gold in his pockets chinking merrily.

'See you all later!' he said. 'You'll be up in the Top Box with me - I'm commentating!' He waved, Barty Crouch nodded curtly, and both of them Disapparated.

Arabella seemed to have relaxed greatly after Crouch Disapparated.

'What's happening at Hogwarts, Dad?' said Fred at once. 'What were they talking about?'

'You'll find out soon enough,' said , smiling.

'It's classified information, until such time as the Ministry decides to release it,' said Percy stiffly. 'Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it.'

'Oh shut up, Weatherby,' said Fred.

A sense of excitement rose like a palpable cloud over the campsite as the afternoon wore on. By dusk, the still summer air itself seemed to be quivering with anticipation, and as darkness spread like a curtain over the thousands of waiting wizards, the last vestiges of pretence disappeared: the Ministry seemed to have bowed to the inevitable and stopped fighting the signs of blatant magic now breaking out everywhere.

Salesmen were Apparating every few feet, carrying trays and pushing carts full of extraordinary merchandise. There were luminous rosettes - green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria - which were squealing the names of the players, pointed green hats bedecked with dancing shamrocks, Bulgarian scarves adorned with lions that really roared, flags from both countries that played their national anthems as they were waved; there were tiny models of Firebolts that really flew, and collectible figures of famous players, which strolled across the palm of your hand, preening themselves

'Been saving my pocket money all summer for this,' Ron told Harry as they and Hermione strolled through the salesmen, buying souvenirs. Though Ron purchased a dancing shamrock hat and a large green rosette, he also bought a small figure of Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker. The miniature Krum walked backward and forward over Ron's hand, scowling up at the green rosette above him.

'Wow, look at these!' said Harry, hurrying over to a cart piled high with what looked like brass binoculars, except that they were covered with all sorts of weird knobs and dials.

'Omnioculars,' said the saleswizard eagerly. 'You can replay action… slow everything down…and they flash up a play-by- play breakdown if you need it. Bargain - ten Galleons each.'

'Wish I hadn't bought this now,' said Ron, gesturing at his dancing shamrock hat and gazing longingly at the Omnioculars.

'Four pairs,' said Harry firmly to the wizard.

'No - don't bother,' said Ron, going red. He was always touchy about the fact that Harry, who had inherited a small fortune from his parents, had much more money than he did.

'You won't be getting anything for Christmas,' Harry told him, thrusting Omnioculars into his, Arabella and Hermione's hands. 'For about ten years, mind.'

'Fair enough,' said Ron, grinning.

'Oooh, thanks, Harry,' said Hermione. 'And I'll get us some programs, look -'

'Anybody wants a scarf?' asked Arabella. 'I'm buyin'.'

Arabella got five scarves. One for her, two for the twins, and the other two for Remus and Sirius.

Their money bags considerably lighter, they went back to the tents. Charlie and Ginny were all sporting green rosettes too, and Mr Weasley was carrying an Irish flag. Bill had a Bulgarian rosette. Fred and George had no souvenirs as they had given Bagman all their gold.

'Here,' said Arabella to the twin, holding up two scarves for them.

They both took it happily, promising her a kingdom full of chocolate as repayment.

'Just promise that whenever you open up a joke shop, I get to have whatever I want for free,' said Arabella sweetly.

'Twenty-five percent discount,' said Fred.

'Seventy-five,' said Arabella.

'Forty,' said George.

'Fifty!'

'Deal,' said Fred, sticky his hand out. Arabella shook his hand and George's hand.

And then a deep, booming gong sounded somewhere beyond the woods, and at once, green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees, lighting a path to the field.

'It's time!' said Mr Weasley, looking as excited as any of them. 'Come on, let's go!'

**Thank you for reading! I tried to add as much of Arabella as I could.**


	5. The Quidditch World Cup

**disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, just Arabella. **

**This chapter has a lot of Quidditch and is solely from Harry's POV. I tried to add as much as I could with Arabella. **

The Quidditch World Cup

Clutching their purchases, Mr Weasley in the lead, they all hurried into the wood, following the lantern-lit trail. They could hear sounds of thousands of people moving around them, shouts and laughter, snatches of singing. The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectious; Harry couldn't stop grinning. They walked through the wood for twenty minutes, talking and joking loudly, until at last they emerged on the other side and found themselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium.

'Seats a hundred thousand,' said Mr Weasley, spotting the awestruck look on Harry's face. 'Ministry task force of five hundred have been working on it all year. Muggle Repelling Charms on every inch of it. Every time Muggles have got anywhere near here all year they've suddenly remembered urgent appointments and had to dash away again… bless them,' he added fondly, leading the way toward the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards.

'Prime seats!' said the Ministry witch at the entrance when she checked their tickets. 'Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go.'

They clambered upward with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through doors into the stands left and right. Mr Weasley's party kept climbing, and at last they reached the top of the staircase and found themselves in a small box, set at the highest point of the stadium and situated exactly halfway between the golden gold posts.

Harry was looking all around the stadium, trying to take it all at once. He tore his eyes away from a sign and looked over his shoulder to see who else was sharing the box with them. So far it was empty, except for a tiny creature sitting in the second from last seat at the end of the row behind them. The creature, whose legs were so short they struck out in front of it on the chair, was wearing a tea towel draped like a toga, and it had its face hidden in its hands. Yet those long batlike ears were oddly familiar.

'Dobby?' said Harry.

The tiny creature looked up and stretched its fingers, revealing enormous brown eyes and a nose the exact size and shape of a large tomato. It wasn't Dobby – it was, however, unmistakably as house-elf.

'Did sir just call me Dobby?' squeaked the elf curiously from between its fingers. Its voice was higher even than Dobby's had been, a teeny, quivering squeak of a voice, and Harry suspected though it was very hard to tell with a house-elf – that this one might just be female. Ron, Arabella and Hermione spun around in their seats to look. Though they had heard a lot about Dobby from Harry, they had never actually met him. Even Mr. Weasley looked around in interest.

'Sorry,' Harry told the elf, 'I just thought you were someone I knew.'

'But I knows Dobby too, sir!' squeaked the elf. She was shielding her face, as though blinded by light, though the Top Box was not brightly lit. 'My name is Winky, sir - and you, sir -' Her dark brown eyes widened to the size of side plates as they rested upon Harry's scar. 'You is surely Harry Potter!'

'Yeah, I am,' said Harry.

'But Dobby talks of you all the time, sir!' she said, lowering her hands very slightly and looking awestruck.

'How is he?' said Harry. 'How's freedom suiting him?'

'Ah, sir,' said Winky, shaking her head, 'ah sir, meaning no disrespect, sir, but I is not sure you did Dobby a favor, sir, when you is setting him free.'

'Why?' said Harry, taken aback. 'What's wrong with him?'

'Freedom is going to Dobby's head, sir,' said Winky sadly. 'Ideas above his station, sir. Can't get another position, sir.'

'Why not?' said Harry.

Winky lowered her voice by a half-octave and whispered, 'He is wanting paying for his work, sir.'

'Paying?' said Harry blankly. 'Well - why shouldn't he be paid?'

Winky looked quite horrified at the idea and closed her fingers slightly so that her face was halfhidden again.

'House-elves is not paid, sir!' she said in a muffled squeak. 'No, no, no. I says to Dobby, I says, go find yourself a nice family and settle down, Dobby. He is getting up to all sorts of high jinks, sir, what is unbecoming to a house-elf. You goes racketing around like this, Dobby, I says, and next thing I hear you's up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, like some common goblin.'

'Well, it's about time he had a bit of fun,' said Harry.

'House-elves is not supposed to have fun, Harry Potter,' said Winky firmly, from behind her hands. 'House-elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, Harry Potter' - she glanced toward the edge of the box and gulped - 'but my master sends me to the Top Box and I comes, sir.'

'Why's he sent you up here, if he knows you don't like heights?' said Harry, frowning.

'Master - master wants me to save him a seat, Harry Potter. He is very busy,' said Winky, tilting her head toward the empty space beside her. 'Winky is wishing she is back in master's tent, Harry Potter, but Winky does what she is told. Winky is a good house-elf.'

She gave the edge of the box another frightened look and hid her eyes completely again. Harry turned back to the others.

'So that's a house-elf?' Ron muttered. 'Weird things, aren't they?'

'Dobby was weirder,' said Harry.

'Wanna bet?' Arabella snorted.

'Who?' said Harry.

'Kreacher,' said Arabella. 'He's more weird than Winky. He takes orders from a dead person.'

'That is a bit weird…'

Ron pulled out his Omnioculars and started testing them, staring down into the crowd on the other side of the stadium.

'Wild!' he said, twiddling the replay knob on the side. 'I can make that old bloke down there pick his nose again…and again…and again…'

Hermione, meanwhile, was skimming eagerly through her velvet covered, tasseled program.

''A display from the team mascots will precede the match,'' she read aloud.

'Oh that's always worth watching,' said Mr. Weasley. 'National teams bring creatures from their native land, you know, to put on a bit of a show.'

The box filled gradually around them over the next half hour. Mr. Weasley kept shaking hands with people who were obviously very important wizards. Percy jumped to his feet so often that he looked as though he were trying to sit on a hedgehog. When Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself, arrived, Percy bowed so low that his glasses fell off and shattered. Highly embarrassed, he repaired them with his wand and thereafter remained in his seat, throwing jealous looks at Harry, whom Cornelius Fudge had greeted like an old friend. They had met before, and Fudge shook Harry's hand in a fatherly fashion, asked how he was, and introduced him to the wizards on either side of him.

'Harry Potter, you know,' he told the Bulgarian minister loudly, who was wearing splendid robes of black velvet trimmed with gold and didn't seem to understand a word of English. 'Harry Potter…oh come on now, you know who he is…the boy who survived You-Know-Who…you do know who he is -'

The Bulgarian wizard suddenly spotted Harry's scar and started gabbling loudly and excitedly, pointing at it.

'Knew we'd get there in the end,' said Fudge wearily to Harry. 'I'm no great shakes at languages; I need Barty Crouch for this sort of thing. Ah, I see his house-elf's saving him a seat…Good job too, these Bulgarian blighters have been trying to cadge all the best places…ah, and here's Lucius!'

Harry, Ron, Arabella and Hermione turned quickly. Edging along the second row to three still-empty seats right behind Mr Weasley were none other than Lucius Malfoy, his son Draco and a woman that must have been Draco's mother.

'Ah, Fudge,' said Mr. Malfoy, holding out his hand as he reached the Minister of Magic. 'How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?'

'How do you do, how do you do?' said Fudge, smiling and bowing to Mrs. Malfoy. 'And allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk - Obalonsk - Mr. - well, he's the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And let's see who else - you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?'

'Good lord, Arthur,' he said softly. 'What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?'

Fudge, who wasn't listening, said, 'Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest.'

'How - how nice,' said Mr. Weasley, with a very strained smile.

Mr. Malfoy's eyes had returned to Hermione, who went slightly pink, but stared determinedly back at him. Harry knew exactly what was making Mr. Malfoy's lip curl like that. The Malfoys prided themselves on being purebloods; in other words, they considered anyone of Muggle descent, like Hermione, second-class. However, under the gaze of the Minister of Magic, Mr. Malfoy didn't dare say anything. His eyes soon went to Arabella, who matched his gaze.

'Cousin Black,' he sneered.

'Cousin Malfoy,' she said through her teeth. She looked over at Draco's mother.

'Narcissa,' she said more politely. Draco's mother nodded politely and her gaze softened at Arabella, slightly.

The Malfoy's continued down the line to his seats. Draco shot Harry, Ron, Arabella and Hermione one contemptuous look, then settled himself between his mother and father.

'Slimy gits,' Ron muttered as he, Harry, Arabella and Hermione turned to face the field again. Next moment, Ludo Bagman charged into the box.

'Everyone ready?' he said, his round face gleaming like a great, excited Edam. 'Minister - ready to go?

'Ready when you are, Ludo,' said Fudge comfortably.

Ludo whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat and said 'Sonorus!' and then spoke over the roar of the sound that was now filling the packed stadium; his voice echoed over them, booming into every corner of the stands.

'Ladies and gentlemen…welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!'

The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. The huge blackboard opposite them was wiped clear of its last message (Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans - A Risk With Every Mouthful!) and now showed BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.

'And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce…the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!'

The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval.

'I wonder what they've brought,' said Mr. Weasley, leaning forward in his seat. 'Aaah!' He suddenly whipped off his glasses and polished them hurriedly on his robes. 'Veela!'

'What are veel -?'

But a hundred veela were now gliding out onto the field, and Harry's question was answered for him. Veela were women…the most beautiful women Harry had ever seen…except that they weren't - they couldn't be - human. This puzzled Harry for a moment while he tried to guess what exactly they could be; what could make their skin shine moon-bright like that, or their white-gold hair fan out behind them without wind…but then the music started, and Harry stopped worrying about them not being human - in fact, he stopped worrying about anything at all.

The veela had started to dance, and Harry's mind had gone completely and blissfully blank. All that mattered in the world was that he kept watching the veela, because if they stopped dancing, terrible things would happen.

And as the veela danced faster and faster, wild, half-formed thoughts started chasing through Harry's dazed mind. He wanted to do something very impressive, right now. Jumping from the box into the stadium seemed a good idea…but would it be good enough?

'Harry, what are you doing?' said Arabella's voice from a long way off.

The music stopped. Harry blinked. He was standing up, and one of his legs was resting on the wall of the box. Next to him, Arabella was looking at his with a mixture of sadness and anger. Ron was frozen in an attitude that looked as though h were about to dive from a springboard.

Angry yells were filling the stadium. The crowd didn't want the veela to go. Harry was with them; he would, of course, be supporting Bulgaria, and he wondered vaguely why he had a large green shamrock pinned to his chest. Ron, meanwhile, was absentmindedly shredding the shamrocks on his hat. Mr. Weasley, smiling slightly, leaned over to Ron and tugged the hat out of his hands.

'You'll be wanting that,' he said, 'once Ireland have had their say.'

'Huh?' said Ron, staring openmouthed at the veela, who had now lined up along one side of the field.

'For Christ's sake,' said Arabella, reaching up and pulling Harry back into his seat. Her previous expression has now changed into solely anger.

'And now,' roared Ludo Bagman's voice, 'kindly put your wands in the air…for the Irish National Team Mascots!'

Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goal posts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the field, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd oooohed and aaaaahed, as though at a fireworks display. Now the rainbow faded and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it –

'Excellent!' yelled Ron as the shamrock soared over them, and heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off their heads and seats. Squinting up at the shamrock, Harry realized that it was actually comprised of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red vests, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green.

'Leprechauns!' said Mr. Weasley over the tumultuous applause of the crowd, many of whom were still fighting and rummaging around under their chairs to retrieve the gold.

'There you go,' Ron yelled happily, stuffing a fistful of gold coins into Harry's hand, 'for the Omnioculars! Now you've got to buy me a Christmas present, ha!'

The great shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down onto the field on the opposite side from the veela, and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match.

'And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome - the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you - Dimitrov!'

A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the field from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters.

'Ivanova!'

A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out.

'Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand - Krum!'

'That's him, that's him!' yelled Ron, following Krum with his Omnioculars. Harry quickly focused his own.

Viktor Krum was thin, dark, and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He looked like an overgrown bird of prey. It was hard to believe he was only eighteen.

'And now, please greet - the Irish National Quidditch Team!' yelled Bagman. 'Presenting - Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand - Lynch!'

From beside him, Arabella was cheering very loudly, jumping up and down. All her anger directed at Harry was gone.

'And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!'

Harry spun the speed dial on his Omnioculars back to normal, watching closely as Mostafa mounted his broomstick and kicked the crate open - four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers, and (Harry saw it for the briefest moment, before it sped out of sight) the minuscule, winged Golden Snitch. With a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.

'Theeeeeeeey're OFF!' screamed Bagman. 'And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!'

It was Quidditch as Harry had never seen it played before. He was pressing his Omnioculars so hard to his glasses that they were cutting into the bridge of his nose. The speed of the players was incredible - the Chasers were throwing the Quaffle to one another so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names.

Harry spun the slow dial on the right of his Omnioculars again, pressed the play by- play button on the top, and he was immediately watching in slow motion, while glittering purple lettering flashed across the lenses and the noise of the crowd pounded against his eardrums.

HAWKSHEAD ATTACKING FORMATION, he read as he watched the three Irish Chasers zoom closely together, Troy in the center, slightly ahead of Mullet and Moran, bearing down upon the Bulgarians. PORSKOFF PLOY flashed up next, as Troy made as though to dart upward with the Quaffle, drawing away the Bulgarian Chaser Ivanova and dropping the Quaffle to Moran. One of the Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov, swung hard at a passing Bludger with his small club, knocking it into Moran's path; Moran ducked to avoid the Bludger and dropped the Quaffle; and Levski, soaring beneath, caught it –

'TROY SCORES!' roared Bagman, and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. 'Ten zero to Ireland!'

'What?' Harry yelled, looking wildly around through his Omnioculars. 'But Levski's got the Quaffle!'

'Watch it at normal speed, Harry! If not, you're going to miss everything!' shouted Arabella, jumping up, waving her arms around as Troy did a lap of honor around the field.

Furious with himself, Harry spun his speed dial back to normal as play resumed.

Harry knew enough about Quidditch to see that the Irish Chasers were superb. They worked as a seamless team, their movements so well coordinated that they appeared to be reading one another's minds as they positioned themselves, and the rosette on Harry's chest kept squeaking their names: 'Troy - Mullet - Moran!' And within ten minutes, Ireland had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the greenclad supporters.

The match became still faster, but more brutal. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, were whacking the Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them from using some of their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, Ivanova managed to break through their ranks; dodge the Keeper, Ryan; and score Bulgaria's first goal.

'Fingers in your ears!' bellowed Mr. Weasley as the veela started to dance in celebration. Harry screwed up his eyes too; he wanted to keep his mind on the game. After a few seconds, he chanced a glance at the field. The veela had stopped dancing, and Bulgaria was again in possession of the Quaffle.

'Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova - oh I say!' roared Bagman. One hundred thousand wizards gasped as the two Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummeted through the center of the Chasers, so fast that it looked as though they had just jumped from airplanes without parachutes. Harry followed their descent through his Omnioculars, squinting to see where the Snitch was –

'They're going to crash!' screamed Hermione.

She was half right - at the very last second, Viktor Krum pulled out of the dive and spiraled off. Lynch, however, hit the ground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the stadium. A huge groan rose from the Irish seats.

'Fool!' moaned Mr. Weasley. 'Krum was feinting!'

'It's time-out!' yelled Bagman's voice, 'as trained mediwizards hurry onto the field to examine Aidan Lynch!'

'He'll be okay, he only got ploughed!' Charlie said reassuringly to Ginny, who was hanging over the side of the box, looking horror-struck. 'Which is what Krum was after, of course…'

Harry hastily pressed the replay and play-by-play buttons on his Omnioculars, twiddled the speed dial, and put them back up to his eyes. He watched as Krum and Lynch dived again in slow motion. WRONSKI DEFENSIVE FEINT - DANGEROUS SEEKER DIVERSION read the shining purple lettering across his lenses. He saw Krum's face contorted with concentration as he pulled out of the dive just in time, while Lynch was flattened, and he understood - Krum hadn't seen the Snitch at all, he was just making Lynch copy him. Harry had never seen anyone fly like that; Krum hardly looked as though he was using a broomstick at all; he moved so easily through the air that he looked unsupported and weightless.

Harry turned his Omnioculars back to normal and focused them on Krum. He was now circling high above Lynch, who was being revived by mediwizards with cups of potion. Harry, focusing still more closely upon Krum's face, saw his dark eyes darting all over the ground a hundred feet below. He was using the time while Lynch was revived to look for the Snitch without interference.

Lynch got to his feet at last, to loud cheers from the green-clad supporters, mounted his Firebolt, and kicked back off into the air. His revival seemed to give Ireland new heart. When Mostafa blew his whistle again, the Chasers moved into action with a skill unrivaled by anything Harry had seen so far.

After fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Ireland had pulled ahead by ten more goals. They were now leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, and the game was starting to get dirtier. As Mullet shot toward the goal posts yet again, clutching the Quaffle tightly under her arm, the Bulgarian Keeper, Zograf, flew out to meet her. Whatever happened was over so quickly Harry didn't catch it, but a scream of rage from the Irish crowd, and Mostafa's long, shrill whistle blast, told him it had been a foul.

'And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing — excessive use of elbows!' Bagman informed the roaring spectators. 'And - yes, it's a penalty to Ireland!'

The leprechauns, who had risen angrily into the air like a swarm of glittering hornets when Mullet had been fouled, now darted together to form the words 'HA, HA, HA!' The veela on the other side of the field leapt to their feet, tossed their hair angrily, and started to dance again. As one, the Weasley boys and Harry stuffed their fingers into their ears, but Arabella and Hermione didn't bothered. Arabella was tugging on Harry's arm. He turned to look at Arabella, and she pulled his fingers impatiently out of his ears.

'Look at the referee!' she said, laughed.

Harry looked down at the field. Hassan Mostafa had landed right in front of the dancing veela, and was acting very oddly indeed. He was flexing his muscles and smoothing his mustache excitedly.

'Now, we can't have that!' said Ludo Bagman, though he sounded highly amused. 'Somebody slap the referee!'

A mediwizard came tearing across the field, his fingers stuffed into his own ears, and kicked Mostafa hard in the shins. Mostafa seemed to come to himself; Harry, watching through the Omnioculars again, saw that he looked exceptionally embarrassed and had started shouting at the veela, who had stopped dancing and were looking mutinous.

'And unless I'm much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian team mascots!' said Bagman's voice. 'Now there's something we haven't seen before…Oh this could turn nasty…'

It did: The Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, landed on either side of Mostafa and began arguing furiously with him, gesticulating toward the leprechauns, who had now gleefully formed the words 'HEE, HEE, HEE.' Mostafa was not impressed by the Bulgarians' arguments, however; he was jabbing his finger into the air, clearly telling them to get flying again, and when they refused, he gave two short blasts on his whistle.

'Two penalties for Ireland!' shouted Bagman, and the Bulgarian crowd howled with anger. 'And Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms…yes…there they go…and Troy takes the Quaffle.'

Play now reached a level of ferocity beyond anything they had yet seen. The Beaters on both sides were acting without mercy: Volkov and Vulchanov in particular seemed not to care whether their clubs made contact with Bludger or human as they swung them violently through the air. Dimitrov shot straight at Moran, who had the Quaffle, nearly knocking her off her broom.

'Foul!' roared the Irish supporters as one, all standing up in a great wave of green. 'Foul!' echoed Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice. 'Dimitrov skins Moran - deliberately flying to collide there - and it's got to be another penalty - yes, there's the whistle!'

The leprechauns had risen into the air again, and this time, they formed a giant hand, which was making a very rude sign indeed at the veela across the field. At this, the veela lost control. Instead of dancing, they launched themselves across the field and began throwing what seemed to be handfuls of fire at the leprechauns. Watching through his Omnioculars, Harry saw that they didn't look remotely beautiful now. On the contrary, their faces were elongating into sharp, cruelbeaked bird heads, and long, scaly wings were bursting from their shoulders –

'And that, boys,' yelled Mr. Weasley over the tumult of the crowd below, 'is why you should never go for looks alone!'

Ministry wizards were flooding onto the field to separate the veela and the leprechauns, but with little success; meanwhile, the pitched battle below was nothing to the one taking place above. Harry turned this way and that, staring through his Omnioculars, as the Quaffie changed hands with the speed of a bullet.

'Levski - Dimitrov - Moran - Troy - Mullet - Ivanova - Moran again - Moran - MORAN SCORES!'

But the cheers of the Irish supporters were barely heard over the shrieks of the veela, the blasts now issuing from the Ministry members' wands, and the furious roars of the Bulgarians. The game recommenced immediately; now Levski had the Quaffle, now Dimitrov - The Irish Beater Quigley swung heavily at a passing Bludger, and hit it as hard as possible toward Krum, who did not duck quickly enough. It hit him full in the face.

There was a deafening groan from the crowd; Krum's nose looked broken, there was blood everywhere, but Hassan Mostafa didn't blow his whistle. He had become distracted, and Harry couldn't blame him; one of the veela had thrown a handful of fire and set his broom tail alight. Harry wanted someone to realize that Krum was injured; even though he was supporting Ireland, Krum was the most exciting player on the field. Ron obviously felt the same.

'Time-out! Ah, come on, he can't play like that, look at him -'

'Look at Lynch!' Harry yelled.

For the Irish Seeker had suddenly gone into a dive, and Harry was quite sure that this was no Wronski Feint; this was the real thing…

'He's seen the Snitch!' Harry shouted. 'He's seen it! Look at him go!' Half the crowd seemed to have realized what was happening; the Irish supporters rose in another great wave of green, screaming their Seeker on…but Krum was on his tail. How he could see where he was going, Harry had no idea; there were flecks of blood flying through the air behind him, but he was drawing level with Lynch now as the pair of them hurtled toward the ground again -

'They're going to crash!' shrieked Hermione.

'They're not!' roared Arabella and Ron.

'Lynch is!' yelled Harry

And he was right - for the second time, Lynch hit the ground with tremendous force and was immediately stampeded by a horde of angry veela.

'The Snitch, where's the Snitch?' bellowed Charlie, along the row.

'He's got it - Krum's got it - it's all over!' shouted Harry.

Krum, his red robes shining with blood from his nose, was rising gently into the air, his fist held high, a glint of gold in his hand. The scoreboard was flashing BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170 across the crowd, who didn't seem to have realized what had happened. Then, slowly, as though a great jumbo jet were revving up, the rumbling from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder and erupted into screams of delight.

'IRELAND WINS!' Bagman shouted, who like the Irish, seemed to be taken aback by the sudden end of the match.

'KRUM GETS THE SNITCH - BUT IRELAND WINS — good lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!'

'What did he catch the Snitch for?' Ron bellowed, even as he jumped up and down, applauding with his hands over his head. 'He ended it when Ireland were a hundred and sixty points ahead, the idiot!'

'He knew they were never going to catch up!' Harry shouted back over all the noise, also applauding loudly. 'The Irish Chasers were too good…He wanted to end it on his terms, that's all…'

'He was very brave, wasn't he?' Hermione said, leaning forward to watch Krum land as a swarm of mediwizards blasted a path through the battling leprechauns and veela to get to him. 'He looks a terrible mess…'

'Mark of a good Quidditch player,' said Arabella, looking impressed at the outcome.

Harry put his Omnioculars to his eyes again. It was hard to see what was happening below, because leprechauns were zooming delightedly all over the field, but he could just make out Krum, surrounded by mediwizards. He looked surlier than ever and refused to let them mop him up. His team members were around him, shaking their heads and looking dejected; a short way away, the Irish players were dancing gleefully in a shower of gold descending from their mascots.

Flags were waving all over the stadium, the Irish national anthem blared from all sides; the veela were shrinking back into their usual, beautiful selves now, though looking dispirited and forlorn.

'Vell, ve fought bravely,' said a gloomy voice behind Harry. He looked around; it was the Bulgarian Minister of Magic.

'You can speak English!' said Fudge, sounding outraged. 'And you've been letting me mime everything all day!'

'Veil, it vos very funny,' said the Bulgarian minister, shrugging.

'And as the Irish team performs a lap of honor, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!' roared Bagman.

Harry's eyes were suddenly dazzled by a blinding white light, as the Top Box was magically illuminated so that everyone in the stands could see the inside. Squinting toward the entrance, he saw two panting wizards carrying a vast golden cup into the box, which they handed to Cornelius Fudge, who was still looking very disgruntled that he'd been using sign language all day for nothing.

'Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers - Bulgaria!' Bagman shouted.

And up the stairs into the box came the seven defeated Bulgarian players. The crowd below was applauding appreciatively; Harry could see thousands and thousands of Omniocular lenses flashing and winking in their direction.

One by one, the Bulgarians filed between the rows of seats in the box, and Bagman called out the name of each as they shook hands with their own minister and then with Fudge. Krum, who was last in line, looked a real mess. Two black eyes were blooming spectacularly on his bloody face. He was still holding the Snitch. Harry noticed that he seemed much less coordinated on the ground. He was slightly duck-footed and distinctly round-shouldered. But when Krum's name was announced, the whole stadium gave him a resounding, earsplitting roar.

And then came the Irish team. Aidan Lynch was being supported by Moran and Connolly; the second crash seemed to have dazed him and his eyes looked strangely unfocused. But he grinned happily as Troy and Quigley lifted the Cup into the air and the crowd below thundered its approval. Harry's hands were numb with clapping. Arabella was still jumping up and down.

'Ten galleons for me!' she shouted.

'What?' shouted Harry.

'Me and Moony made a bet. He thought Bulgaria was going to win, I thought Ireland. So we made a bet.'

At last, when the Irish team had left the box to perform another lap of honor on their brooms (Aidan Lynch on the back of Confolly's, clutching hard around his waist and still grinning in a bemused sort of way), Bagman pointed his wand at his throat and muttered, 'Quietus.'

'They'll be talking about this one for years,' he said hoarsely, 'a really unexpected twist, that…shame it couldn't have lasted longer…Ah yes…yes, I owe you…how much?'

For Fred and George had just scrambled over the backs of their seats and were standing in front of Ludo Bagman with broad grins on their faces, their hands outstretched.

**Thank you for reading! **


	6. The Dark Mark

**disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, just Arabella. **

**Again, this is mostly in Harry's POV. Next one will be in Arabella's POV. **

The Dark Mark

'Don't tell your mother you've been gambling,' Mr. Weasley implored Fred and George as they all made their way slowly down the purple-carpeted stairs.

'Don't worry, Dad,' said Fred gleefully, 'we've got big plans for this money. We don't want it confiscated.'

Mr. Weasley looked for a moment as though he was going to ask what these big plans were, but seemed to decide, upon reflection, that he didn't want to know.

Arabella, meanwhile, was going a sort of victory dance with Charlie next to Bill, who looked annoyed.

'Ireland won… Ireland won… Who won? Ireland won…' they sang together, mostly for Bill's benefit, who scowled at the pair of them.

They were soon caught up in the crowds now flooding out of the stadium and back to their campsites. Raucous singing was borne toward them on the night air as they retraced their steps along the lantern-lit path, and leprechauns kept shooting over their heads, cackling and waving their lanterns. When they finally reached the tents, nobody felt like sleeping at all, and given the level of noise around them, Mr. Weasley agreed that they could all have one last cup of cocoa together before turning in.

They were soon arguing enjoyably about the match; Mr. Weasley got drawn into a disagreement about cobbing with Charlie, and it was only when Ginny fell asleep right at the tiny table and spilled hot chocolate all over the floor that Mr. Weasley called a halt to the verbal replays and insisted that everyone go to bed. Hermione, Arabella and Ginny went into the next tent, and Harry and the rest of the Weasleys changed into pajamas and clambered into their bunks. From the other side of the campsite they could still hear much singing and the odd echoing bang.

'Oh I am glad I'm not on duty,' muttered Mr. Weasley sleepily. 'I wouldn't fancy having to go and tell the Irish they've got to stop celebrating.'

* * *

'Get up! Ron - Harry - come on now, get up, this is urgent!'

Harry sat up quickly and the top of his head hit canvas.

'S' matter?' he said.

Dimly, he could tell that something was wrong. The noises in the campsite had changed. The singing had stopped. He could hear screams, and the sound of people running. He slipped down from the bunk and reached for his clothes, but Mr. Weasley, who had pulled on his jeans over his own pajamas, said, 'No time, Harry - just grab a jacket and get outside - quickly!'

Harry did as he was told and hurried out of the tent, Ron at his heels. By the light of the few fires that were still burning, he could see people running away into the woods, fleeing something that was moving across the field toward them, something that was emitting odd flashes of light and noises like gunfire.

Loud jeering, roars of laughter, and drunken yells were drifting toward them; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene. A crowd of wizards, tightly packed and moving together with wands pointing straight upward, was marching slowly across the field. Harry squinted at them…They didn't seem to have faces…Then he realized that their heads were hooded and their faces masked. High above them, floating along in midair, four struggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes. It was as though the masked wizards on the ground were puppeteers, and the people above them were marionettes operated by invisible strings that rose from the wands into the air.

Two of the figures were very small. More wizards were joining the marching group, laughing and pointing up at the floating bodies. Tents crumpled and fell as the marching crowd swelled. Once or twice Harry saw one of the marchers blast a tent out of his way with his wand. Several caught fire.

The screaming grew louder.

The floating people were suddenly illuminated as they passed over a burning tent and Harry recognized one of them: Mr. Roberts, the campsite manager. The other three looked as though they might be his wife and children. One of the marchers below flipped Mrs. Roberts upside down with his wand; her nightdress fell down to reveal voluminous drawers and she struggled to cover herself up as the crowd below her screeched and hooted with glee.

'That's sick,' Ron muttered, watching the smallest Muggle child, who had begun to spin like a top, sixty feet above the ground, his head flopping limply from side to side. 'That is really sick…'

Arabella, Hermione and Ginny came hurrying toward them, pulling coats over their nightdresses, with Mr. Weasley right behind them. At the same moment, Bill, Charlie, and Percy emerged from the boys' tent, fully dressed, with their sleeves rolled up and their wands out.

'We're going to help the Ministry!' Mr. Weasley shouted over all the noise, rolling up his own sleeves. 'You lot - get into the woods, and stick together. I'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out!'

Bill, Charlie, and Percy were already sprinting away toward the oncoming marchers; Mr. Weasley tore after them. Ministry wizards were dashing from every direction toward the source of the trouble. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was coming ever closer.

'C'mon,' said Fred, grabbing Ginny's hand and starting to pull her toward the wood. Harry, Ron, Arabella, Hermione, and George followed. They all looked back as they reached the trees. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was larger than ever; they could see the Ministry wizards trying to get through it to the hooded wizards in the center, but they were having great difficulty. It looked as though they were scared to perform any spell that might make the Roberts family fall.

The colored lanterns that had lit the path to the stadium had been extinguished. Dark figures were blundering through the trees; children were crying; anxious shouts and panicked voices were reverberating around them in the cold night air.

Harry felt himself being pushed hither and thither by people whose faces he could not see. Then he heard Ron yell with pain.

'What happened?' said Hermione anxiously, stopping so abruptly that Harry walked into her. 'Ron, where are you?'

'Lumos!' said Arabella, holding up her wand and directed it to a path. Ron was lying sprawled on the ground.

'Tripped over a tree root,' he said angrily, getting to his feet again.

'Well, with feet that size, hard not to,' said a drawling voice from behind them.

Harry, Ron, Arabella and Hermione turned sharply. Draco Malfoy was standing alone nearby, leaning against a tree, looking relaxed. Ron told Malfoy to do something that Harry knew he would never have dared say in front of Mrs Weasley.

'Language, Weasley,' said Malfoy, his pale eyes glittering. 'Hadn't you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn't like her spotted, would you?'

He nodded at Hermione, and at the same moment, a blast like a bomb sounded from the campsite, and a flash of green light momentarily lit the trees around them.

'What's that supposed to mean?' said Hermione defiantly.

'Granger, they're after Muggles,' said Malfoy. 'D'you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? Because if you do, hang around… they're moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh.'

'Hermione's a witch,' Harry snarled.

'Have it your own way, Potter,' said Malfoy, grinning maliciously. 'If you think they can't spot a Mudblood, stay where you are.'

'You watch your mouth!' shouted Ron. Everybody present knew that 'Mudblood' was a very offensive term for a witch or wizard of Muggle parentage.

'Never mind, Ron,' said Hermione quickly, seizing Ron's arm to restrain him as he took a step toward Malfoy. There came a bang from the other side of the trees that was louder than anything they had heard several people nearby screamed. Malfoy chuckled softly.

'Scare easily, don't they?' he said lazily. 'I suppose your daddy told you all to hide? What's he up to - trying to rescue the Muggles?'

'Where're your parents?' said Harry, his temper rising. 'Out there wearing masks, are they?'

Malfoy turned his face to Harry, still smiling.

'Well…if they were, I wouldn't be likely to tell you, would I, Potter?'

'Oh come on,' said Hermione, with a disgusted look at Malfoy, 'let's go and find the others.'

'Keep that big bushy head down, Granger,' sneered Malfoy.

'Come on,' Hermione repeated, and she pulled Harry, Arabella and Ron up the path again.

'Black!' Malfoy shouted out.

'What?' snarled Arabella, turning around.

'Save yourself,' said Malfoy. 'They'll find you first if you're still hanging with people like Weasleys and Granger. Save your own neck. My mother will be highly disappointed if she comes across your dead body.'

Harry was about to make his way over to Malfoy before Arabella held him back.

'No point,' she said. 'He's not worth it.'

They started to walk along the path again when Malfoy said something again, 'Don't say I didn't warn you!'

They just ignored him and kept walking.

'I'll bet you anything his dad is one of that masked lot!' said Ron hotly.

'No need to bet, Ron. His father is probably leading the charge,' said Arabella, deadpanned.

'Well, with any luck, the Ministry will catch him!' said Hermione fervently. 'Oh I can't believe this.'

'Why is he trying to save you all of a sudden?' asked Harry, looking at Arabella, irritated.

'No idea,' said Arabella, looking around. 'He either found a compassionate bone in his body, or he's doing this because of Narcissa.'

'Where have the others gone?' said Hermione.

Fred, George, and Ginny were nowhere to be seen, though the path was packed with plenty of other people, all looking nervously over their shoulders toward the commotion back at the campsite. A huddle of teenagers in pajamas was arguing vociferously a little way along the path. When they saw Harry, Ron, Arabella and Hermione, a girl with thick curly hair turned and said quickly,

'Oü est Madame Maxime? Nous l'avons perdue -'

'Er - what?' said Ron.

'Oh…' The girl who had spoken turned her back on him, and as they walked on they distinctly heard her say, 'Ogwarts.'

'Beauxbatons,' muttered Hermione.

'Sorry?' said Harry.

'They must go to Beauxbatons,' said Hermione. 'You know… Beauxbatons Academy of Magic…I read about it in An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe.'

'Oh…yeah…right,' said Harry.

'French school,' whispered Arabella in Harry's ear.

'Fred and George can't have gone that far,' said Ron, pulling out his wand, lighting it like Arabella's, and squinting up the path. Hermione did the same. Harry dug in the pockets of his jacket for his own wand - but it wasn't there. The only thing he could find was his Omnioculars.

'Ah, no, I don't believe it…I've lost my wand!'

'You're kidding!'

Arabella, Ron and Hermione raised their wands high enough to spread the narrow beams of light farther on the ground; Harry looked all around him, but his wand was nowhere to be seen.

'Maybe it's back in the tent,' said Ron.

'Maybe it fell out of your pocket when we were running?' Hermione suggested anxiously.

'Yeah,' said Harry, 'maybe…'

'Let's just keep going,' said Arabella. 'We'll find it later…'

A rustling noise nearby made all three of them jump. Winky the house-elf was fighting her way out of a clump of bushes nearby. She was moving in a most peculiar fashion, apparently with great difficulty; it was as though someone invisible were trying to hold her back.

'There is bad wizards about!' she squeaked distractedly as she leaned forward and labored to keep running. 'People high - high in the air! Winky is getting out of the way!'

And she disappeared into the trees on the other side of the path, panting and squeaking as she fought the force that was restraining her.

'What's up with her?' said Ron, looking curiously after Winky. 'Why can't she run properly?'

'Bet she didn't ask permission to hide,' said Harry. He was thinking of Dobby: Every time he had tried to do something the Malfoys wouldn't like, the house-elf had been forced to start beating himself up.

'You know, house-elves get a very raw deal!' said Hermione indignantly. 'It's slavery, that's what it is! That Mr. Crouch made her go up to the top of the stadium, and she was terrified, and he's got her bewitched so she can't even run when they start trampling tents! Why doesn't anyone do something about it?'

'Well, the elves are happy, aren't they?' Ron said. 'You heard old Winky back at the match…'House-elves is not supposed to have fun'…that's what she likes, being bossed around…'

'It's people like you, Ron,' Hermione began hotly, 'who prop up rotten and unjust systems, just because they're too lazy to -'

'Enough!' said Arabella, looking angry. 'This is not the time.'

Another loud bang echoed from the edge of the wood.

'Let's just keep moving,' said Arabella. Harry saw Ron glance edgily at Hermione. Perhaps there was truth in what Malfoy had said; perhaps Hermione was in more danger than they were. They set off again, Harry still searching his pockets, even though he knew his wand wasn't there.

They followed the dark path deeper into the wood, still keeping an eye out for Fred, George, and Ginny. They passed a group of goblins who were cackling over a sack of gold that they had undoubtedly won betting on the match, and who seemed quite unperturbed by the trouble at the campsite. Farther still along the path, they walked into a patch of silvery light, and when they looked through the trees, they saw three tall and beautiful veela standing in a clearing, surrounded by a gaggle of young wizards, all of whom were talking very loudly.

'I pull down about a hundred sacks of Galleons a year!' one of them shouted. 'I'm a dragon killer for the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures.'

'No, you're not!' yelled his friend. 'You're a dishwasher at the Leaky Cauldron…but I'm a vampire hunter, I've killed about ninety so far -'

A third young wizard, whose pimples were visible even by the dim, silvery light of the veela, now cut in, 'I'm about to become the youngest ever Minister of Magic, I am.'

Harry snorted with laughter. He recognized the pimply wizard: His name was Stan Shunpike, and he was in fact a conductor on the triple-decker Knight Bus. He turned to tell Ron this, but Ron's face had gone oddly slack, and next second Ron was yelling, 'Did I tell you I've invented a broomstick that'll reach Jupiter?'

'Honestly!' said Hermione, and she and Harry grabbed Ron firmly by the arms, wheeled him around and marched him away with Arabella in front of them, leading the way. By the sounds of the veela and their admirers had faded completely, they were in the very heart of the wood. They seemed to be alone now; everything was much quieter.

Harry looked around. 'I reckon we can just wait here, you know. We'll hear anyone coming a mile off.'

The words were hardly out of his mouth, when Ludo Bagman emerged from behind a tree right ahead of them.

Even by the feeble light of the three wands, Harry could see that a great change had come over Bagman. He no longer looked buoyant and rosy-faced; there was no more spring in his step. He looked very white and strained.

'Who's that?' he said, blinking down at them, trying to make out their faces. 'What are you doing in here, all alone?'

They looked at one another, surprised.

'Well - there's a sort of riot going on,' said Ron.

Bagman stared at him.

'What?'

'At the campsite…some people have got hold of a family of Muggles…'

Bagman swore loudly.

'Damn them!' he said, looking quite distracted, and without another word, he Disapparated with a small pop!

'Not exactly on top of things, Mr. Bagman, is he?' said Hermione, frowning.

'He was a great Beater, though,' said Ron, leading the way off the path into a small clearing, and sitting down on a patch of dry grass at the foot of a tree. 'The Wimbourne Wasps won the league three times in a row while he was with them.'

He took his small figure of Krum out of his pocket, set it down on the ground, and watched it walk around. Like the real Krum, the model was slightly duck-footed and round-shouldered, much less impressive on his splayed feet than on his broomstick. Harry was listening for noise from the campsite. Everything seemed much quieter; perhaps the riot was over.

'I hope the others are okay,' said Hermione after a while.

'They'll be fine,' said Ron.

'Imagine if your dad catches Lucius Malfoy,' said Harry, sitting down next to Ron and watching the small figure of Krum slouching over the fallen leaves. 'He's always said he'd like to get something on him.'

'That'll be amazing,' said Arabella. 'It'll wipe the smirk right off Draco's face.'

'Those poor Muggles, though,' said Hermione nervously. 'What if they can't get them down?'

'They will,' said Ron reassuringly. 'They'll find a way.'

'Mad, though, to do something like that when the whole Ministry of Magic's out here tonight!' said Hermione. 'I mean, how do they expect to get away with it? Do you think they've been drinking, or are they just -'

But she broke off abruptly and looked over her shoulder. Harry, Arabella and Ron looked quickly around too. It sounded as though someone was staggering toward their clearing. They waited, listening to the sounds of the uneven steps behind the dark trees. But the footsteps came to a sudden halt.

'Hello?' called Harry.

There was silence. Harry got to his feet and peered around the tree. It was too dark to see very far, but he could sense somebody standing just beyond the range of his vision.

'Who's there?' he said.

And then, without warning, the silence was rent by a voice unlike any they had heard in the wood; and it uttered, not a panicked shout, but what sounded like a spell.

'MORSMORDRE!'

And something vast, green, and glittering erupted from the patch of darkness Harry's eyes had been struggling to penetrate; it flew up over the treetops and into the sky.

'What the -?' gasped Ron as he sprang to his feet again, staring up at the thing that had appeared.

For a split second, Harry thought it was another leprechaun formation. Then he realized that it was a colossal skull, comprised of what looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue. As they watched, it rose higher and higher, blazing in a haze of greenish smoke, etched against the black sky like a new constellation.

Suddenly, the wood all around them erupted with screams. Harry didn't understand why, but the only possible cause was the sudden appearance of the skull, which had now risen high enough to illuminate the entire wood like some grisly neon sign. He scanned the darkness for the person who had conjured the skull, but he couldn't see anyone.

'Who's there?' he called again.

'Harry, come on, move!' Hermione had seized the collar of his jacket and was tugging him backward.

'What's the matter?' Harry said, startled to see her face so white and terrified.

'It's the Dark Mark,' said Arabella, looking terrified at the mark. 'Voldemort's sign.'

'Voldemort's –'

'Harry, come on!'

Harry turned - Ron was hurriedly scooping up his miniature Krum - the four of them started across the clearing - but before they had taken a few hurried steps, a series of popping noises announced the arrival of twenty wizards, appearing from thin air, surrounding them.

Harry whirled around, and in an instant, he registered one fact: Each of these wizards had his wand out, and every wand was pointing right at himself, Ron, Arabella and Hermione.

Without pausing to think, he yelled, 'DUCK!'

He seized the other three and pulled them down onto the ground.

'STUPEFY!' roared twenty voices - there was a blinding series of flashes and Harry felt the hair on his head ripple as though a powerful wind had swept the clearing. Raising his head a fraction of an inch he saw jets of fiery red light flying over them from the wizards' wands, crossing one another, bouncing off tree trunks, rebounding into the darkness—

'Stop!' yelled a voice he recognized. 'STOP! That's my son!'

Harry's hair stopped blowing about. He raised his head a little higher. The wizard in front of him had lowered his wand. He rolled over and saw Mr Weasley striding toward them, looking terrified.

'Ron – Harry' –his voice sounded shaky – 'Arabella – Hermione – are you all right?'

'Out of the way, Arthur,' said a cold, curt voice.

It was Mr Crouch. He and the other Ministry wizards were closing in on them. Harry and Arabella got to their feet to face them. Mr Crouch's face was taut with rage.

'Which one of you did it?' he snapped, his eyes daring between them, but they mostly landing on Arabella. 'Which of you conjured the Dark Mark?'

'We didn't do that!' said Harry, gesturing up at the skull.

'We didn't do anything!' said Ron, who was rubbing his elbow and looking indignantly at his father. 'What did you want to attack us for?'

'Do not lie, sir!' shouted Mr. Crouch. His wand was still pointing directly at Ron, and his eyes were popping - he looked slightly mad. 'You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!'

'Barty,' whispered a witch in a long woolen dressing gown, 'they're kids, Barty, they'd never have been able to.'

'Where did the Mark come from, you three?' said Mr. Weasley quickly

'Over there,' said Hermione shakily, pointing at the place where they had heard the voice. 'There was someone behind the trees…they shouted words – an incantation -'

'Oh, stood over there, did they?' said Mr. Crouch, turning his popping eyes on Hermione now, disbelief etched all over his face. 'Said an incantation, did they? You seem very well informed about how that Mark is summoned, missy-'

'She didn't do it,' said Arabella firmly.

'Oh, she did, eh? Is that a confession, Black? Following in your father's footsteps?'

'No. I did not conjure up the mark,' said Arabella. 'And please lower your wand. We would not want history to repeat now, do we?'

Mr Crouch was silenced and lowered his wand. None of the Ministry wizards apart from Mr. Crouch seemed to think it remotely likely that Harry, Ron, Arabella or Hermione had conjured the skull; on the contrary, at Hermione's words, they had all raised their wands again and were pointing in the direction she had indicated, squinting through the dark trees.

'We're too late,' said the witch in the woolen dressing gown, shaking her head. 'They'll have Disapparated.'

'I don't think so,' said a wizard with a scrubby brown beard. It was Amos Diggory, Cedric's father. 'Our Stunners went right through those trees…There's a good chance we got them…'

'Amos, be careful!' said a few of the wizards warningly as Mr. Diggory squared his shoulders, raised his wand, marched across the clearing, and disappeared into the darkness. Hermione watched him vanish with her hands over her mouth. A few seconds later, they heard Mr. Diggory shout. 'Yes! We got them! There's someone here! Unconscious! It's - but – blimey…'

'You've got someone?' shouted Mr. Crouch, sounding highly disbelieving. 'Who? Who is it?'

They heard snapping twigs, the rustling of leaves, and then crunching footsteps as Mr. Diggory reemerged from behind the trees. He was carrying a tiny, limp figure in his arms. Harry recognized the tea towel at once. It was Winky. Mr. Crouch did not move or speak as Mr. Diggory deposited his elf on the ground at his feet. The other Ministry wizards were all staring at Mr. Crouch. For a few seconds Crouch remained transfixed, his eyes blazing in his white face as he stared down at Winky. Then he appeared to come to life again.

'This - cannot - be,' he said jerkily. 'No -'

He moved quickly around Mr. Diggory and strode off toward the place where he had found Winky.

'No point, Mr. Crouch,' Mr. Diggory called after him. 'There's no one else there.'

But Mr. Crouch did not seem prepared to take his word for it. They could hear him moving around and the rustling of leaves as he pushed the bushes aside, searching.

'Bit embarrassing,' Mr. Diggory said grimly, looking down at Winky's unconscious form. 'Barty Crouch's house-elf…I mean to say…'

'Come off it, Amos,' said Mr. Weasley quietly, 'you don't seriously think it was the elf? The Dark Mark's a wizard's sign. It requires a wand.'

'Yeah,' said Mr. Diggory, 'and she had a wand.'

'What?' said Mr. Weasley.

'Here, look.' Mr. Diggory held up a wand and showed it to Mr. Weasley. 'Had it in her hand. So that's clause three of the Code of Wand Use broken, for a start. No non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand.'

Just then there was another pop, and Ludo Bagman Apparated right next to Mr. Weasley. Looking breathless and disorientated, he spun on the spot, goggling upward at the emerald-green skull.

'The Dark Mark!' he panted, almost trampling Winky as he turned inquiringly to his colleagues. 'Who did it? Did you get them? Barty! What's going on?'

Mr. Crouch had returned empty-handed. His face was still ghostly white, and his hands and his toothbrush mustache were both twitching.

'Where have you been, Barty?' said Bagman. 'Why weren't you at the match? Your elf was saving you a seat too - gulping gargoyles!' Bagman had just noticed Winky lying at his feet. 'What happened to her?'

'I have been busy, Ludo,' said Mr. Crouch, still talking in the same jerky fashion, barely moving his lips. 'And my elf has been stunned.'

'Stunned? By you lot, you mean? But why -?'

Comprehension dawned suddenly on Bagman's round, shiny face; he looked up at the skull, down at Winky, and then at Mr. Crouch.

'No!' he said. 'Winky? Conjure the Dark Mark? She wouldn't know how! She'd need a wand, for a start!'

'And she had one,' said Mr. Diggory. 'I found her holding one, Ludo. If it's all right with you, Mr. Crouch, I think we should hear what she's got to say for herself.'

Crouch gave no sign that he had heard Mr. Diggory, but Mr. Diggory seemed to take his silence for assent. He raised his own wand, pointed it at Winky, and said, 'Rennervate!'

Winky stirred feebly. Her great brown eyes opened and she blinked several times in a bemused sort of way. Watched by the silent wizards, she raised herself shakily into a sitting position. She caught sight of Mr. Diggory's feet, and slowly, tremulously, raised her eyes to stare up into his face; then, more slowly still, she looked up into the sky. Harry could see the floating skull reflected twice in her enormous, glassy eyes. She gave a gasp, looked wildly around the crowded clearing, and burst into terrified sobs.

'Elf!' said Mr. Diggory sternly. 'Do you know who I am? I'm a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!'

Winky began to rock backward and forward on the ground, her breath coming in sharp bursts. Harry was reminded forcibly of Dobby in his moments of terrified disobedience.

'As you see, elf, the Dark Mark was conjured here a short while ago,' said Mr. Diggory. 'And you were discovered moments later, right beneath it! An explanation, if you please!'

'I - I - I is not doing it, sir!' Winky gasped. 'I is not knowing how, sir!'

'You were found with a wand in your hand!' barked Mr. Diggory, brandishing it in front of her. And as the wand caught the green light that was filling the clearing from the skull above, Harry recognized it.

'Hey - that's mine!' he said

Everyone in the clearing looked at him.

'Excuse me?' said Mr. Diggory, incredulously.

'That's my wand!' said Harry. 'I dropped it!'

'You dropped it?' repeated Mr. Diggory in disbelief. 'Is this a confession? You threw it aside after you conjured the Mark?'

'Amos, think who you're talking to!' said Mr. Weasley, very angrily. 'Is Harry Potter likely to conjure the Dark Mark?'

'Er - of course not,' mumbled Mr. Diggory. 'Sorry…carried away…'

'I didn't drop it there, anyway,' said Harry, jerking his thumb toward the trees beneath the skull. 'I missed it right after we got into the wood.'

'So,' said Mr. Diggory, his eyes hardening as he turned to look at Winky again, cowering at his feet. 'You found this wand, eh, elf? And you picked it up and thought you'd have some fun with it, did you?'

'I is not doing magic with it, sir!' squealed Winky, tears streaming down the sides of her squashed and bulbous nose. 'I is…I is…I is just picking it up, sir! I is not making the Dark Mark, sir, I is not knowing how!'

'It wasn't her!' said Hermione. She looked very nervous, speaking up in front of all these Ministry wizards, yet determined all the same. 'Winky's got a squeaky little voice, and the voice we heard doing the incantation was much deeper!' She looked around at Harry, Ron and Arabella, appealing for their support. 'It didn't sound anything like Winky, did it?'

'It was a man's voice,' said Arabella firmly.

'It didn't sound like an elf,' said Harry.

'Yeah, it was a human voice,' said Ron.

'Well, we'll soon see,' growled Mr. Diggory, looking unimpressed. 'There's a simple way of discovering the last spell a wand performed, elf, did you know that?'

Winky trembled and shook her head frantically, her ears flapping, as Mr. Diggory raised his own wand again and placed it tip to tip with Harry's.

'Prior Incantato!' roared Mr. Diggory.

Harry heard Hermione gasp as Arabella clutched his arm. A gigantic serpent-tongued skull erupted from the point where the two wands met, but it was a mere shadow of the green skull high above them; it looked as though it were made of thick gray smoke: the ghost of a spell.

'Deletrius!' Mr. Diggory shouted, and the smoky skull vanished in a wisp of smoke.

'So,' said Mr. Diggory with a kind of savage triumph, looking down upon Winky, who was still shaking convulsively.

'I is not doing it!' she squealed, her eyes rolling in terror. 'I is not, I is not, I is not knowing how! I is a good elf, I isn't using wands, I isn't knowing how!'

'You've been caught red-handed, elf!' Mr. Diggory roared. 'Caught with the guilty wand in your hand!'

'Amos,' said Mr. Weasley loudly, 'think about it…precious few wizards know how to do that spell…Where would she have learned it?'

'Perhaps Amos is suggesting,' said Mr. Crouch, cold anger in every syllable, 'that I routinely teach my servants to conjure the Dark Mark?'

There was a deeply unpleasant silence. Amos Diggory looked horrified. 'Mr. Crouch…not…not at all.'

'You have now come very close to accusing the two people in this clearing who are least likely to conjure that Mark!' barked Mr. Crouch. 'Harry Potter – and myself. I suppose you are familiar with the boy's story, Amos?'

'Of course - everyone knows -' muttered Mr. Diggory, looking highly discomforted.

'And I trust you remember the many proofs I have given, over a long career, that I despise and detest the Dark Arts and those who practice them?' Mr. Crouch shouted, his eyes bulging again.

'Mr. Crouch, I - I never suggested you had anything to do with it!' Amos Diggory muttered again, now reddening behind his scrubby brown beard.

'If you accuse my elf, you accuse me, Diggory!' shouted Mr. Crouch. 'Where else would she have learned to conjure it?'

'She - she might've picked it up anywhere -'

'Precisely, Amos,' said Mr. Weasley. 'She might have picked it up anywhere…Winky?' he said kindly, turning to the elf, but she flinched as though he too was shouting at her. 'Where exactly did you find Harry's wand?'

Winky was twisting the hem of her tea towel so violently that it was fraying beneath her fingers.

'I - I is finding it…finding it there, sir…' she whispered, 'there…in the trees, sir.

'You see, Amos?' said Mr. Weasley. 'Whoever conjured the Mark could have Disapparated right after they'd done it, leaving Harry's wand behind. A clever thing to do, not using their own wand, which could have betrayed them. And Winky here had the misfortune to come across the wand moments later and pick it up.'

'But then, she'd have been only a few feet away from the real culprit!' said Mr. Diggory impatiently. 'Elf? Did you see anyone?'

Winky began to tremble worse than ever. Her giant eyes flickered from Mr. Diggory, to Ludo Bagman, and onto Mr. Crouch. Then she gulped and said, 'I is seeing no one, sir…no one…'

'Amos,' said Mr. Crouch curtly, 'I am fully aware that, in the ordinary course of events, you would want to take Winky into your department for questioning. I ask you, however, to allow me to deal with her.'

Mr. Diggory looked as though he didn't think much of this suggestion at all, but it was clear to Harry that Mr. Crouch was such an important member of the Ministry that he did not dare refuse him.

'You may rest assured that she will be punished,' Mr. Crouch added coldly.

'M-m-master…' Winky stammered, looking up at Mr. Crouch, her eyes brimming with tears. 'M-m-master, p-p-please…'

Mr. Crouch stared back, his face somehow sharpened, each line upon it more deeply etched. There was no pity in his gaze.

'Winky has behaved tonight in a manner I would not have believed possible,' he said slowly. 'I told her to remain in the tent. I told her to stay there while I went to sort out the trouble. And I find that she disobeyed me. This means clothes.'

'No!' shrieked Winky, prostrating herself at Mr. Crouch's feet. 'No, master! Not clothes, not clothes!'

Harry knew that the only way to turn a house-elf free was to present it with proper garments. It was pitiful to see the way Winky clutched at her tea towel as she sobbed over Mr. Crouch's feet.

'But she was frightened!' Hermione burst out angrily, glaring at Mr. Crouch. 'Your elf's scared of heights, and those wizards in masks were levitating people! You can't blame her for wanting to get out of their way!'

'Not now, Hermione,' said Arabella, through her teeth towards Hermione.

Mr. Crouch took a step backward, freeing himself from contact with the elf, whom he was surveying as though she were something filthy and rotten that was contaminating his over-shined shoes.

'I have no use for a house-elf who disobeys me,' he said coldly, looking over at Hermione. 'I have no use for a servant who forgets what is due to her master, and to her master's reputation.'

Winky was crying so hard that her sobs echoed around the clearing. There was a very nasty silence, which was ended by Mr. Weasley, who said quietly, 'Well, I think I'll take my lot back to the tent, if nobody's got any objections. Amos, that wand's told us all it can - if Harry could have it back, please -'

Mr. Diggory handed Harry his wand and Harry pocketed it.

'Come on, you four,' Mr Weasley said quietly. But Hermione didn't seem to want to move; her eyes were still upon the sobbing elf. 'Hermione!' Mr Weasley said, more urgently. She turned and followed them out of the clearing and off through the trees.

'What's going to happen to Winky?' said Hermione, the moment they had left the clearing.

'I don't know,' said Mr. Weasley.

'The way they were treating her!' said Hermione furiously. 'Mr. Diggory, calling her 'elf' all the time…and Mr. Crouch! He knows she didn't do it and he's still going to sack her! He didn't care how frightened she'd been, or how upset she was - it was like she wasn't even human!'

'Well, she's not,' said Ron.

Hermione rounded on him.

'That doesn't mean she hasn't got feelings, Ron. It's disgusting the way -'

'Enough!' shouted Arabella, looking furious. 'This is not the time to be talking about elf rights. Something else is going on. We need to get back to the tent as fast as we can.'

'Arabella's right,' said Mr Weasley. 'Hermione, I agree with you, but we really have to get back to the tent. What happened to the others?'

'We lost them in the dark,' said Ron. 'Dad, why was everyone so uptight about that skull thing?'

'I'll explain everything back at the tent,' said Mr. Weasley tensely.

But when they reached the edge of the wood, their progress was impeded. A large crowd of frightened-looking witches and wizards was congregated there, and when they saw Mr. Weasley coming toward them, many of them surged forward.

'What's going on in there?'

'Who conjured it?'

'Arthur - it's not - Him?'

'Of course it's not Him,' said Mr. Weasley impatiently. 'We don't know who it was; it looks like they Disapparated. Now excuse me, please, I want to get to bed.'

He led Harry, Ron, Arabella and Hermione through the crowd and back into the campsite.

All was quiet now; there was no sign of the masked wizards, through several ruined tents were still smoking.

Charlie's head was poking out of the boys' tent.

'Dad, what's going on?' he called through the dark. 'Fred, George, and Ginny got back okay, but the others -'

'I've got them here,' said Mr. Weasley, bending down and entering the tent. Harry, Ron, Arabella and Hermione entered after him.

Bill was sitting at the small kitchen table, holding a bedsheet to his arms, which was bleeding profusely. Charlie had a large rip in his shirt, and Percy was sporting a bloody nose. Fred, George, and Ginny looked unhurt, though shaken.

'Did you get them, Dad?' said Bill sharply. 'The person who conjured the Mark?'

'No,' said Mr. Weasley. 'We found Barry Crouch's elf holding Harry's wand, but we're none the wiser about who actually conured the Mark.'

'What?' said Bill, Charlie, and Percy together. 'Harry's wand?' said Fred.

'Mr. Crouch's elf' said Percy, sounding thunderstruck.

With some assistance from Harry, Ron, Arabella and Hermione, Mr. Weasley explained what had happened in the woods. When they had finished their story, Percy swelled indignantly.

'Well, Mr. Crouch is quite right to get rid of an elf like that!' he said. 'Running away when he'd expressly told her not to…embarrassing him in front of the whole Ministry…how would that have looked, if she'd been brought up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control'

'She didn't do anything - she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!' Hermione snapped at Percy, who looked very taken aback. Hermione had always got on fairly well with Percy - better, indeed, than any of the others.

'Hermione, a wizard in Mr. Crouch's position can't afford a house-elf who's going to run amok with a wand!' said Percy pompously, recovering himself.

'She didn't run amok!' shouted Hermione. 'She just picked it up off the ground!'

'Look, can someone just explain what that skull thing was?' said Ron impatiently. 'It wasn't hurting anyone…Why's it such a big deal?'

'I told you, it's You-Know-Who's symbol, Ron,' said Hermione, before anyone else could answer. 'I read about it in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts.'

'And it hasn't been seen for thirteen years,' said Mr. Weasley quietly. 'Of course people panicked…it was almost like seeing You-Know-Who back again.'

'I don't get it,' said Ron, frowning. 'I mean…it's still only a shape in the sky…'

'Ron, Voldemort' - everybody winced except for Harry –'and his followers sent the Dark Mark in the air whenever they killed someone,' said Arabella, shaking her head. 'It inspires terror. It's everybody's worst fear… the very worst. You wouldn't understand.'

'Oh, what would you know about the terror?' snapped Percy, looking irritated.

'Percy!' exclaimed Mr Weasley, looking a bit angry and disappointed at his son's outburst. Ron groaned beside Harry as Fred and George glared at Percy.

Arabella looked at Percy in the eyes and moved slowly closer to him. Percy didn't say anything, but held his gaze firmly at her.

'Four Death Eater,' said Arabella, slowly and in a low dangerous voice, 'broke into my house when I was three; one of them was my cousin. They tortured my mother for information and killed her _in front of my eyes._ I was also tortured by my cousin, and I still have the scars to prove it. _I have no mother_.' Percy gulped and his gaze lowered to the floor, ashamed. 'I experienced terror first-hand. Don't _ever _say I don't know what it is,' she added.

There was silence for a moment. Percy mumbled an apology and moved to sit beside Bill as Arabella went to stand beside Harry.

'What else happened?' asked Ron, stirring the conversation.

Bill removed the sheet from his arm to check on his cut and said, 'Well, whoever conjured up the Dark Mark scared the Death Eaters away the moment they saw it. They all Disapparated before we'd got near enough to unmask any of them. We caught the Robertses before they hit the ground, though. They're having their memories modified right now.'

'Death Eaters?' said Harry. 'What are Death Eaters?'

'It's what You-Know-Who's supporters called themselves,' said Bill. 'I think we saw what's left of them tonight - the ones who managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban, anyway.'

'We can't prove it was them, Bill,' said Mr. Weasley. 'Though it probably was,' he added hopelessly.

'Yeah, I bet it was!' said Ron suddenly. 'Dad, we met Draco Malfoy in the woods, and he as good as told us his dad was one of those nutters in masks! And we all know the Malfoys were right in with You-Know-Who!'

'But what were Voldemort's supporters -' Harry began. Everybody flinched except for Arabella. 'Sorry,' said Harry quickly. 'What were You-Know-Who's supporters up to, levitating Muggles? I mean, what was the point?'

'The point?' said Mr. Weasley with a hollow laugh. 'Harry, that's their idea of fun. Half the Muggle killings back when You-Know-Who was in power were done for fun. I suppose they had a few drinks tonight and couldn't resist reminding us all that lots of them are still at large. A nice little reunion for them,' he finished disgustedly.

'But if they were the Death Eaters, why did they Disapparate when they saw the Dark Mark?' said Ron. 'They'd have been pleased to see it, wouldn't they?'

'Because those were the cowards,' said Arabella in a voice dripping with venom, 'that said that they were forced to kill and torture people. They worked very hard to keep out of Azkaban when Voldemort' – wince – 'lost his power. They'd be more terrified than the rest of us to see him come back. They denied everything and went on with their life… Voldemort' – wince – 'wouldn't be pleased with them.'

'So… whoever conjured the Dark Mark…' said Hermione slowly, 'were they doing it to show support for the Death Eaters, or to scare them away?'

'Your guess is as good as ours, Hermione,' said Mr. Weasley. 'But I'll tell you this…it was only the Death Eaters who ever knew how to conjure it. I'd be very surprised if the person who did it hadn't been a Death Eater once, even if they're not now…Listen, it's very late, and if your mother hears what's happened she'll be worried sick. We'll get a few more hours sleep and then try and get an early Portkey out of here.'

Everybody moved to their bunks. All except for Arabella, who was standing in the same place, her gaze unfocused as she was chewing on her lips in concentration.

'Are you okay?' asked Harry, touching her left shoulder lightly.

'What?' Arabella snapped out of it.

'Are you okay?' Harry repeated.

'Yeah,' said Arabella, nodding her head. 'It's just that…'

'What?'

'That voice,' whispered Arabella, looking around to make sure she wasn't over heard. 'The person who conjured up the mark, he sounds so familiar. I just can't remember where I've heard his voice before.'

'You think you might know who conjured it?' asked Harry, astonished.

'I don't know,' said Arabella. 'The voice just sounds so familiar. I just can't remember…'

Both Arabella and Harry left it at that. They went to their separate bunks and were wide awake.

**Thank you for reading!**


	7. Mayhem at the Ministry

**disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, just Arabella. **

**Hope you like it!**

Mayhem at the Ministry

Mr Weasley woke them after only a few hours of sleep. He used magic to pack up the tents, and they left the campsite as quickly as possible, passing Mr Roberts at the door of his cottage. Mr Roberts had a strange, dazed look about him, and he waved them off with a vague 'Merry Christmas.'

'He'll be all right,' said Mr. Weasley quietly as they marched off onto the moor. 'Sometimes, when a person's memory's modified, it makes him a bit disorientated for a while…and that was a big thing they had to make him forget.'

They heard urgent voices as they approached the spot where the Portkeys lay, and when they reached it, they found a great number of witches and wizards gathered around Basil, the keeper of the Portkeys, all clamoring to get away from the campsite as quickly as possible. Mr. Weasley had a hurried discussion with Basil; they joined the queue, and were able to take an old rubber tire back to Stoatshead Hill before the sun had really risen. They walked back through Ottery St. Catchpole and up the damp lane toward the Burrow in the dawn light, talking very little because they were so exhausted, and thinking longingly of their breakfast. As they rounded the corner and the Burrow came into view, a cry echoed along the lane.

'Oh thank goodness, thank goodness!'

Mrs. Weasley, who had evidently been waiting for them in the front yard, came running toward them, still wearing her bedroom slippers, her face pale and strained, a rolled-up copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in her hand.

'Arthur - I've been so worried - so worried-'

She flung her arms around Mr. Weasley's neck, and the Daily Prophet fell out of her limp hand onto the ground. Looking down, Arabella saw the headline: SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, complete with a twinkling black-and-white photograph of the Dark Mark over the treetops.

'You're all right,' Mrs. Weasley muttered distractedly, releasing Mr. Weasley and staring around at them all with red eyes, 'you're alive…Oh boys…' And to everybody's surprise, she seized Fred and George and pulled them both into such a tight hug that their heads banged together.

'Ouch! Mum - you're strangling us -'

'I shouted at you before you left!' Mrs. Weasley said, starting to sob. 'It's all I've been thinking about! What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough OW.L.s? Oh Fred…George…'

'Come on, now, Molly, we're all perfectly okay,' said Mr. Weasley soothingly, prising her off the twins and leading her back toward the house. 'Bill,' he added in an undertone, 'pick up that paper, I want to see what it says…'

When they were all crammed into the tiny kitchen, and Hermione had made Mrs. Weasley a cup of very strong tea, into which Mr. Weasley insisted on pouring a shot of Ogdens Old Firewhiskey, Bill handed his father the newspaper. Mr. Weasley scanned the front page while Percy looked over his shoulder.

'I knew it,' said Mr. Weasley heavily. 'Ministry blunders…culprits not apprehended…lax security…Dark wizards running unchecked…national disgrace…Who wrote this? Ah…of course…Rita Skeeter.'

'That woman's got it in for the Ministry of Magic!' said Percy furiously. 'Last week she was saying we're wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness, when we should be stamping out vampires! As if it wasn't specifically stated in paragraph twelve of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans —'

'Do us a favor, Perce,' said Bill, yawning, 'and shut up.'

'I'm mentioned,' said Mr. Weasley, his eyes widening behind his glasses as he reached the bottom of the Daily Prophet article.

'Where?' spluttered Mrs. Weasley, choking on her tea and whiskey. 'If I'd seen that, I'd have known you were alive!'

'Not by name,' said Mr. Weasley. 'Listen to this: 'If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged some time after the appearance of the Dark Mark alleging that nobody had been hurt, but refusing to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later, remains to be seen.' Oh really,' said Mr. Weasley in exasperation, handing the paper to Percy. 'Nobody was hurt. What was I supposed to say? 'Rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods…' well, there certainly will be rumors now she's printed that.'

He heaved a deep sigh. 'Molly, I'm going to have to go into the office; this is going to take some smoothing over.'

'I'll come with you, Father,' said Percy importantly. 'Mr. Crouch will need all hands on deck. And I can give him my cauldron report in person.'

He bustled out of the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley looked most upset. 'Arthur, you're supposed to be on holiday! This hasn't got anything to do with your office; surely they can handle this without you?'

'I've got to go, Molly,' said Mr. Weasley. 'I've made things worse. I'll just change into my robes and I'll be off…'

'Mrs. Weasley,' said Harry suddenly, unable to contain himself, 'Hedwig hasn't arrived with a letter for me, has she?'

'Hedwig, dear?' said Mrs. Weasley distractedly. 'No…no, there hasn't been any post at all. Oh, and before I forget,' she left the room to go fetch something near the fireplace and returned, 'here you go, Arabella dear. This is from Remus; it's for your new school year.'

Arabella took the box from Mrs Weasley and thanked her.

'I'm gonna go upstairs,' said Arabella. 'Hermione, you coming?'

'Yes,' she said quickly. 'Harry? Ron?'

The four of them marched out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Arabella put the box in Ginny's room before heading towards Ron's attic room.

'What's up, Harry? Who are you waiting an owl for?' said Ron, the moment they had closed the door of the attic room behind them.

'There's something I haven't told you,' Harry said. 'On Saturday morning, I woke up with my scar hurting again.'

Hermione gasped and started making suggestions at once, mentioning a number of reference books, and everybody from Albus Dumbledore to Madam Pomfrey, the Hogwarts nurse. Arabella told him to go straight to Dumbledore. Ron simply looked dumbstruck.

'But - he wasn't there, was he? You-Know-Who? I mean - last time your scar kept hurting, he was at Hogwarts, wasn't he?'

'I'm sure he wasn't on Privet Drive,' said Harry. 'But I was dreaming about him…him and Peter - you know, Wormtail. I can't remember all of it now, but they were plotting to kill…someone.'

He had teetered for a moment on the verge of saying 'me,' but couldn't bring himself to make Hermione look any more horrified than she already did.

'It was only a dream,' said Ron bracingly. 'Just a nightmare.'

'Yeah, but was it, though?' said Harry, turning to look out of the window at the brightening sky. 'It's weird, isn't it…? My scar hurts, and three days later the Death Eaters are on the march, and Voldemort's sign's up in the sky again.'

'Don't - say - his - name!' Ron hissed through gritted teeth.

'And remember what Professor Trelawney said?' Harry went on, ignoring Ron. 'At the end of last year?'

Hermione's terrified look vanished as she let out a derisive snort.

'Oh Harry, you aren't going to pay attention to anything that old fraud says?'

'You weren't there,' said Harry. 'You didn't hear her. This time was different. I told you, she went into a trance - a real one. And she said the Dark Lord would rise again…greater and more terrible than ever before…and he'd manage it because his servant was going to go back to him…and that night Wormtail escaped.'

There was a silence in which Ron fidgeted absentmindedly with a hole in his Chudley Cannons bedspread.

'Who are you expecting a letter from?' asked Arabella.

'I told Sirius about my scar,' said Harry, shrugging. 'I'm waiting for his answer.'

'Good thinking!' said Ron, his expression clearing. 'I bet Sirius'll know what to do!'

'I hoped he'd get back to me quickly,' said Harry.

'But we don't know where Sirius is…he could be in Africa or somewhere, couldn't he?' said Hermione reasonably. 'Hedwig's not going to manage that journey in a few days.'

'He wouldn't be that far by now,' said arabella.

'Come and have a game of Quidditch in the orchard, Harry' said Ron. 'Come on - three on three, Bill and Charlie and Fred and George will play…You can try out the Wronski Feint…'

'What about me?' said Arabella, pouting.

'Ron,' said Hermione, in an I-don't-think-you're-being-very-sensitive sort of voice, 'Harry doesn't want to play Quidditch right now…He's worried, and he's tired…We all need to go to bed…'

'Yeah, I want to play Quidditch,' said Harry suddenly. 'Hang on, I'll get my Firebolt.'

Hermione left the room, muttering something that sounded very much like 'Boys.' Ron also left the room with Arabella following him closely behind.

'Em – Arabella?' said Harry, clearing his throat. 'Can I talk to you? I need to tell you something.'

Arabella nodded as Ron shot him a grin.

'What's wrong?' asked Arabella, looking at his worried face.

'There was something else that was mentioned when Voldemort and Wormtail were talking,' said Harry slowly, trying to find a way to say this.

'What did they say?'

'Wormtail asked him about using a girl and Voldemort said that she looked like her mother and how his faithful servant would get close to her,' said Harry, not looking her in the eye.

'Why are you telling me this?'

'I think, and this is just a wild shot in the dark, but I that you are the girl he was talking about.'

Arabella was shocked by this. She stared at Harry for a moment.

'And what would he want with me?' asked Arabella.

'I don't know, but I think it has something to do with your mother,' said Harry.

'She does not know Voldemort,' said Arabella hotly.

'I know that,' said Harry, raising his hands up in surrender. 'I'm not the enemy here. I'm just telling you what I saw.'

'She doesn't know him,' said Arabella, feeling frustrated with the whole world.

Neither Mr Weasley nor Percy was at home much over the following week. Both left the house each morning before the rest of the family got up, and returned well after dinner every night.

'It's been an absolute uproar,' Percy told them importantly the Sunday evening before they were due to return to Hogwarts. 'I've been putting out fires all week. People keep sending Howlers, and of course, if you don't open a Howler straight away, it explodes. Scorch marks all over my desk and my best quill reduced to cinders.'

'Why are they all sending Howlers?' asked Ginny, who was mending her copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi with Spellotape on the rug in front of the living room fire.

'Complaining about security at the World Cup,' said Percy. 'They want compensation for their ruined property. Mundungus Fletcher's put in a claim for a twelve-bedroomed tent with en-suite Jacuzzi, but I've got his number. I know for a fact he was sleeping under a cloak propped on sticks.'

Mrs. Weasley glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. Eight of the hands were currently pointing to the 'home' position, but Mr Weasley's, which was the longest, was still pointing to 'work.' Mrs Weasley sighed.

'Your father hasn't had to go into the office on weekends since the days of You- Know-Who,' she said. 'They're working him far too hard. His dinner's going to be ruined if he doesn't come home soon.'

'Well, Father feels he's got to make up for his mistake at the match, doesn't he?' said Percy. 'If truth be told, he was a tad unwise to make a public statement without clearing it with his Head of Department first -'

'Don't you dare blame your father for what that wretched Skeeter woman wrote!' said Mrs. Weasley, flaring up at once.

'If Dad hadn't said anything, old Rita would just have said it was disgraceful that nobody from the Ministry had commented,' said Bill, who was playing chess with Ron. 'Rita Skeeter never makes anyone look good. Remember, she interviewed all the Gringotts' Charm Breakers once, and called me 'a long-haired pillock'?'

'Well, it is a bit long, dear,' said Mrs. Weasley gently. 'If you'd just let me -'

'No, Mum.'

Hermione was engrossed in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, copies of which Mrs Weasley had brought for her, Harry, Ron and Arabella in Diagon Alley. Charlie was mending a fireproof balaclava. Harry was polishing his Firebolt. Fred and George were sitting in a far corner, quills out, talking in whispers; their heads bent over a piece of parchment. Arabella was sitting in the chair next to Hermione, watching everyone.

'What are you two up to?' said Mrs. Weasley sharply, her eyes on the twins.

'Homework,' said Fred vaguely.

'Don't be ridiculous, you're still on holiday,' said Mrs. Weasley.

'Yeah, we've left it a bit late,' said George.

'You're not by any chance writing out a new order form, are you?' said Mrs. Weasley shrewdly.

'You wouldn't be thinking of restarting Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, by any chance?'

'Now, Mum,' said Fred, looking up at her, a pained look on his face. 'If the Hogwarts Express crashed tomorrow, and George and I died, how would you feel to know that the last thing we ever heard from you was an unfounded accusation?'

Everyone laughed, even Mrs. Weasley.

'Oh your father's coming!' she said suddenly, looking up at the clock again.

Mr. Weasley's hand had suddenly spun from 'work' to 'traveling'; a second later it had shuddered to a halt on 'home' with the others, and they heard him calling from the kitchen.

'Coming, Arthur!' called Mrs. Weasley, hurrying out of the room. A few moments later, Mr. Weasley came into the warm living room carrying his dinner on a tray. He looked completely exhausted.

'Well, the fat's really in the fire now,' he told Mrs. Weasley as he sat down in an armchair near the hearth and toyed unenthusiastically with his somewhat shriveled cauliflower. 'Rita Skeeter's been ferreting around all week, looking for more Ministry mess-ups to report. And now she's found out about poor old Bertha going missing, so that'll be the headline in the Prophet tomorrow. I told Bagman he should have sent someone to look for her ages ago.'

'Mr. Crouch has been saying it for weeks and weeks,' said Percy swiftly. 'Crouch is very lucky Rita hasn't found out about Winky,' said Mr. Weasley irritably. 'There'd be a week's worth of headlines in his house-elf being caught holding the wand that conjured the Dark Mark.'

'I thought we were all agreed that that elf, while irresponsible, did not conjure the Mark?' said Percy hotly.

'If you ask me, Mr. Crouch is very lucky no one at the Daily Prophet knows how mean he is to elves!' said Hermione angrily.

'Now look here, Hermione!' said Percy. 'A high-ranking Ministry official like Mr. Crouch deserves unswerving obedience from his servants -'

'His slave, you mean!' said Hermione, her voice rising passionately, 'because he didn't pay Winky, did he?'

'I think you'd all better go upstairs and check that you've packed properly!' said Mrs. Weasley, breaking up the argument. 'Come on now, all of you…'

Arabella followed Hermione and Ginny upstairs to Ginny's room. The rain was getting louder. Arabella landed on her bed with a small huff. Her trunks were half-packed. The box that Remus sent her was by her bed, unopened. She wanted to talk to him, or write, but didn't know what to out in the letter. She can't just say, _'Hey Moony. Quidditch match was excellent. Was there any way Mom knew Voldemort? Love you, Arabella_.'

Arabella decided to finally look in the box, might as well see what he sent her. She opened the beige box and first found a note on top of some packing tissue paper.

_This once belonged to your mother. Now it belongs to you. _

She recognized the handwritings as Sirius'. The 's' were the same as hers, as well as the 'l' and some of the 'e'.

She opened the wrapping tissues and found a dress underneath it. It was a floor-lenght, silky looking red dress with a v-neckline and a v-back. The straps and the waist seemed to have some red rhinestones on them.

'That's beautiful,' said Ginny, staring at it. Hermione was also staring at it.

'Why do we need dresses?' asked Arabella.

At that moment, Mrs Weasley knocked on the door and was carrying an armful if freshly laundered Hogwarts robes.

'Here you are,' she said, sorting them into two piles. 'Now, mind you pack them properly so they don't crease.'

'Mrs Weasley, why do I need a dress for school?'

'It said on your school list that you're supposed to have dress robes this year… oh, I'll be back a moment!'

She bashed out of the room and came back in very quickly, carrying a green, floor-length dress and a floaty, blue dress.

'These are yours,' she said, handing the green one to Ginny and the blue one to Hermione. 'I had to wash them and mend some of the threads, but they're still good. I got those from your parent, Hermione. They sent it to me after you all left for the game.'

'Thank you, Mrs Weasley/Mom,' said Hermione and Ginny. Mrs Weasley excused herself and left the room.

'Why do we need dresses?' said Arabella, feeling a bit annoyed. She didn't like to get fancy for any sort of event. She has never worn any make-up freely, except for the time where Nymph won a bet against her, nor has she ever worn a skirt. She always wore jeans with a shirt or a jumper. This was a whole new territory for her.

'Are you annoyed with the thought of wearing a dress?' asked Ginny, raising her eyebrow.

'Yes,' said Arabella, putting the dress in the box and in her suitcase.

'Why? It might be nice,' said Hermione, surprising Arabella. Hermione never seemed like the girly kind to her.

'It's a dress,' said Arabella. 'I don't like dresses.'

'You have never worn a dress, have you?' asked Ginny, smiling.

'No, and I'm rubbish at wearing make-up because I don't wear it either,' said Arabella.

'I could help you,' said Ginny. 'I could help you with make-up.'

Arabella smiled at her. 'Thanks, Gin.'

'Don't worry about it,' said Ginny.

All of a sudden, there was a peaking sound in their room. At the window was Shay, all wet, with a letter attached to him. Arabella opened the window.

'Hey,' mumbled Arabella, gently stroking his feathers and taking the letter.

Shay hooted and stood there inside Ginny's room near the window. Arabella looked at the letter and saw that it was from Remus.

_Dear Arabella_

_How are you? Is everything okay? I heard about the Quidditch Match. _

_Snuffles got the dress the day you left for the Weasleys. It was your mothers. She wore it to an event once, long time ago. It was also her mother's dress, too. Hope you like it. _

_I'll send you your ten galleons next time. _

_Love, Remus. _

Arabella felt a bit bad about the remarks she said before about dressing up. The dress belonged to her mother and her mother before that. She just never knew how important it was to her family. She grabbed some parchment and ink.

_Dear Moony, _

_I'm fine, everything's okay. The Quidditch Match was amazing! I'll tell you about it the next time I see you. I like the dress, it's really nice. I like it. _

_Love, Arabella. _

She decided to leave out the suspicious voice that cast the Dark Mark and what Harry told her about his dream with Voldemort. She tied the letter to Shay's leg and he went off into the rainy day. Somehow, the decision to leave off the two things she want to talk to Remus about made her feel very lonely in a full house.

**Thank you for reading!**


	8. Aboard the Hogwarts Express

**disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, just Arabella. This is in Harry's POV, next one ****_might_**** be in Arabella's, not sure. **

Aboard the Hogwarts Express

There was a definite end-of-the-holidays gloom in the air when Harry awoke next morning.

He, Ron, Fred and George had just reached the first-floor landing on their way to breakfast, when Mrs Weasley appeared at the foot of the stairs, looking harassed.

'Arthur!' she called up the staircase. 'Arthur! Urgent message from the Ministry!'

Harry flattened himself against the wall as Mr. Weasley came clattering past with his robes on back-to-front and hurtled out of sight. When Harry and the others entered the kitchen, they saw Mrs. Weasley rummaging anxiously in the drawers –

'I've got a quill here somewhere!' - and Mr. Weasley bending over the fire, talking to – Harry shut his eyes hard and opened them again to make sure that they were working properly. Amos Diggory's head was sitting in the middle of the flames like a large, bearded egg. It was talking very fast, completely unperturbed by the sparks flying around it and the flames licking its ears.

'…Muggle neighbors heard bangs and shouting, so they went and called those what-d'you-call-'ems - please-men. Arthur, you've got to get over there—'

'Here!' said Mrs. Weasley breathlessly, pushing a piece of parchment, a bottle of ink, and a crumpled quill into Mr. Weasley's hands.

'- it's a real stroke of luck I heard about it,' said Mr. Diggory's head. 'I had to come into the office early to send a couple of owls, and I found the Improper Use of Magic lot all setting off — if Rita Skeeter gets hold of this one, Arthur —'

'What does Mad-Eye say happened?' asked Mr. Weasley, unscrewing the ink bottle, loading up his quill, and preparing to take notes.

Mr. Diggory's head rolled its eyes. 'Says he heard an intruder in his yard. Says he was creeping toward the house, but was ambushed by his dustbins.'

'What did the dustbins do?' asked Mr. Weasley, scribbling frantically.

'Made one hell of a noise and fired rubbish everywhere, as far as I can tell,' said Mr. Diggory.

'Apparently one of them was still rocketing around when the pleasemen turned up -'

Mr. Weasley groaned.

'And what about the intruder?'

'Arthur, you know Mad-Eye,' said Mr. Diggory's head, rolling its eyes again. 'Someone creeping into his yard in the dead of night? More likely there's a very shell-shocked cat wandering around somewhere, covered in potato peelings. But if the Improper Use of Magic lot get their hands on Mad-Eye, he's had it — think of his record — we've got to get him off on a minor charge, something in your department — what are exploding dustbins worth?'

'Might be a caution,' said Mr. Weasley, still writing very fast, his brow furrowed. 'Mad-Eye didn't use his wand? He didn't actually attack anyone?'

'I'll bet he leapt out of bed and started jinxing everything he could reach through the window,' said Mr. Diggory, 'but they'll have a job proving it, there aren't any casualties.'

'All right, I'm off,' Mr. Weasley said, and he stuffed the parchment with his notes on it into his pocket and dashed out of the kitchen again.

Mr. Diggory's head looked around at Mrs. Weasley.

'Sorry about this, Molly,' it said, more calmly, 'bothering you so early and everything…but Arthur's the only one who can get Mad-Eye off, and Mad-Eye's supposed to be starting his new job today. Why he had to choose last night…'

'Never mind, Amos,' said Mrs. Weasley. 'Sure you won't have a bit of toast or anything before you go?'

'Oh go on, then,' said Mr. Diggory.

Mrs. Weasley took a piece of buttered toast from a stack on the kitchen table, put it into the fire tongs, and transferred it into Mr. Diggory's mouth. 'Fanks,' he said in a muffled voice, and then, with a small pop, vanished.

Harry could hear Mr. Weasley calling hurried good-byes to Bill, Charlie, Percy, and the girls. Within five minutes, he was back in the kitchen, his robes on the right way now, dragging a comb through his hair.

'I'd better hurry - you have a good term, boys,' said Mr. Weasley to Harry, Ron, and the twins, fastening a cloak over his shoulders and preparing to Disapparate.

'Molly, are you going to be all right taking the kids to King's Cross?'

'Of course I will,' she said. 'You just look after Mad-Eye, we'll be fine.'

As Mr. Weasley vanished, Bill and Charlie entered the kitchen.

'Did someone say Mad-Eye?' Bill asked. 'What's he been up to now?'

'He says someone tried to break into his house last night,' said Mrs. Weasley.

'He's not hurt is he?' asked Arabella, eating some eggs.

'Mad-Eye?' said George thoughtfully, spreading marmalade on his toast. 'Isn't he that nutter –'

'Don't talk about Mad-Eye like that,' said Arabella hotly.

'Your father thinks very highly of Mad-Eye Moody,' said Mrs. Weasley sternly.

'Yeah, well, Dad collects plugs, doesn't he?' said Fred quietly as Mrs. Weasley left the room.

'Birds of a feather…'

'Moody was a great wizard in his time,' said Bill.

'He's an old friend of Dumbledore's, isn't he?' said Charlie.

'Dumbledore's not what you'd call normal, though, is he?' said Fred. 'I mean, I know he's a genius and everything…'

'Who is Mad-Eye?' asked Harry.

'He was one of the best Aurors in the Ministry,' said Arabella. 'Half the cells in Azkaban are full because of him.'

'How do you know him?' asked Charlie.

'He's a friend,' said Arabella.

'You're friends with Mad-Eye?' said Charlie, skeptical. 'How did that happen?'

'My mom used to work for him during and after the war,' said Arabella. 'And comes and visits me and Uncle Remus sometimes.'

Bill and Charlie decided to come and see everyone off at King's Cross station, but Percy, apologizing most profusely, said that he really needed to get to work.

'I just can't justify taking more time off at the moment,' he told them. 'Mr. Crouch is really starting to rely on me.'

'Yeah, you know what, Percy?' said George seriously. 'I reckon he'll know your name soon.'

Mrs. Weasley had braved the telephone in the village post office to order three ordinary Muggle taxis to take them into London.

'Arthur tried to borrow Ministry cars for us,' Mrs. Weasley whispered to Harry as they stood in the rain-washed yard, watching the taxi drivers heaving six heavy Hogwarts trunks into their cars. 'But there weren't any to spare…Oh dear, they don't look happy, do they?'

Harry didn't like to tell Mrs. Weasley that Muggle taxi drivers rarely transported overexcited owls, and Pigwidgeon was making an earsplitting racket. Nor did it help that a number of Filibuster's Fabulous No-Heat, Wet-Start Fireworks went off unexpectedly when Fred's trunk sprang open, causing the driver carrying it to yell with fright and pain as Crookshanks clawed his way up the man's leg.

The journey was uncomfortable, owing to the fact that they were jammed in the back of the taxis with their trunks. Crookshanks took quite a while to recover from the fireworks, and by the time they entered London, Harry, Ron, Arabella and Hermione were all severely scratched. They were very relieved to get out at King's Cross, even though the rain was coming down harder than ever, and they got soaked carrying their trunks across the busy road and into the station.

Harry, Ron, Arabella and Hermione went through the barrier first onto platform nine and three-quarters. The Hogwarts Express was already there. Harry, Ron, Arabella and Hermione set off the find seats, and were soon stowing their luggage in a compartment halfway along the train. They had hopped back down onto the platform to say good-bye to Mrs Weasley, Bill, and Charlie.

'I might be seeing you all sooner than you think,' said Charlie, grinning, as he hugged Ginny good-bye.

'Why?' said Fred keenly.

'You'll see,' said Charlie. 'Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it…it's 'classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it,' after all.'

'Yeah, I sort of wish I were back at Hogwarts this year,' said Bill, hands in his pockets, looking almost wistfully at the train.

Why?' said George impatiently.

'You're going to have an interesting year,' said Bill, his eyes twinkling. 'I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it.'

'A bit of what?' said Ron.

But at that moment, the whistle blew, and Mrs. Weasley chivvied them toward the train doors.

'Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley,' said Hermione as they climbed on board, closed the door, and leaned out of the window to talk to her.

'Thanks, Mrs. Weasley,' said Harry and Arabella.

'Oh it was my pleasure, dears,' said Mrs. Weasley. 'I'd invite you for Christmas, but…well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with…one thing and another.'

'Mum!' said Ron irritably. 'What d'you three know that we don't?'

'You'll find out this evening, I expect,' said Mrs. Weasley, smiling. 'It's going to be very exciting - mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules -'

'What rules?' said Harry, Ron, Fred, and George together.

'I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you…Now, behave, won't you? Won't you, Fred? And you, George?'

The pistons hissed loudly and the train began to move.

'Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts!' Fred bellowed out of the window as Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie sped away from them. 'What rules are they changing?'

But Mrs. Weasley only smiled and waved. Before the train had rounded the corner, she, Bill, and Charlie had Disapparated.

Harry, Ron, Arabella and Hermione went back to their compartment. The thick rain splattering the windows made it very difficult to see out of them. Ron undid his trunk, pulled out his maroon dress robes, and flung them over Pigwidgeon's cage to muffle his hooting.

'Bagman wanted to tell us what's happening at Hogwarts,' he said grumpily, sitting down next to Harry. 'At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Wonder what —'

'Shh!' Hermione whispered suddenly, pressing her finger to her lips and pointing toward the compartment next to theirs. Harry, Ron and Arabella listened, and heard a familiar drawling voice drifting in through the open door.

'…Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore - the man's such a Mudblood-lover - and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defense rubbish we do…'

Hermione got up, tiptoed to the compartment door, and slid it shut, blocking out Malfoy's voice.

'So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?' she said angrily. 'I wish he had gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him.'

'Durmstrang's another wizarding school?' said Harry.

'Yes,' said Arabella, 'it's one of the darker schools. It has a horrible reputation since they teach the students how to use Dark Arts rather than the defense of it.'

'I think I've heard of it,' said Ron vaguely. 'Where is it? What country?'

'Well, nobody knows, do they?' said Hermione, raising her eyebrows.

'Er - why not?' said Harry.

'There's traditionally been a lot of rivalry between all the magic schools. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons like to conceal their whereabouts so nobody can steal their secrets,' said Hermione matter-of-factly.

'Come off it,' said Ron, starting to laugh. 'Durmstrang's got to be about the same size as Hogwarts — how are you going to hide a great big castle?'

'But Hogwarts is hidden,' said Hermione, in surprise. 'Everyone knows that…well, everyone who's read Hogwarts, A History, anyway.'

'Just you, then,' said Ron. 'So go on - how d'you hide a place like Hogwarts?'

'It's bewitched,' said Hermione. 'If a Muggle looks at it, all they see is a moldering old ruin with a sign over the entrance saying DANGER, DO NOT ENTER, UNSAFE.'

'So Durmstrang'll just look like a ruin to an outsider too?'

'Maybe,' said Hermione, shrugging, 'or it might have Muggle-repelling charms on it, like the World Cup stadium. And to keep foreign wizards from finding it, they'll have made it Unplottable-'

'Come again?'

'Well, you can enchant a building so it's impossible to plot on a map, can't you?'

'Er…if you say so,' said Arabella.

'But I think Durmstrang must be somewhere in the far north,' said Hermione thoughtfully. 'Somewhere very cold, because they've got fur capes as part of their uniforms.'

'Ah, think of the possibilities,' said Ron dreamily. 'It would've been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident…Shame his mother likes him…'

The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved farther north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday. The lunch trolley came rattling along the corridor, and Harry bought a large stack of Cauldron Cakes for them to share.

Several of their friends looked in on them as the afternoon progressed, including Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom. Seamus was still wearing his Ireland rosette. Some of its magic seemed to be wearing off now; it was still squeaking 'Troy - Mullet - Moran!' but in a very feeble and exhausted sort of way. After half an hour or so, Hermione, growing tired of the endless Quidditch talk, buried herself once more in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, and started trying to learn a Summoning Charm.

Neville listened jealously to the others' conversation as they relived the Cup match.

'Gran didn't want to go,' he said miserably. 'Wouldn't buy tickets. It sounded amazing though.'

'It was,' said Ron. 'Look at this, Neville…'

He rummaged in his trunk up in the luggage rack and pulled out the miniature figure of Viktor Krum.

'Oh wow,' said Neville enviously as Ron tipped Krum onto his pudgy hand.

'We saw him right up close, as well,' said Ron. 'We were in the Top Box -'

'For the first and last time in your life, Weasley.'

Draco Malfoy had appeared in the doorway. Behind him stood Crabbe and Goyle, his enormous, thuggish cronies, both of whom appeared to have grown at least a foot during the summer. Evidently they had overheard the conversation through the compartment door, which Dean and Seamus had left ajar.

'Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy,' said Harry coolly.

'Weasley…what is that?' said Malfoy, pointing at Pigwidgeon's cage. A sleeve of Ron's dress robes was dangling from it, swaying with the motion of the train, the moldy lace cuff very obvious. Ron made to stuff the robes out of sight, but Malfoy was too quick for him; he seized the sleeve and pulled.

'Look at this!' said Malfoy in ecstasy, holding up Ron's robes and showing Crabbe and Goyle, 'Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean - they were very fashionable in about eighteen ninety…

'Eat dung, Malfoy!' said Ron, the same color as the dress robes as he snatched them back out of Malfoy's grip. Malfoy howled with derisive laughter; Crabbe and Goyle guffawed stupidly.

'So…going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well, you know…you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won…'

'What are you talking about?' snapped Arabella.

'Are you going to enter?' Malfoy repeated. 'I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?'

'Either explain what you're on about or go away, Malfoy,' said Hermione testily, over the top of

The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4.

A gleeful smile spread across Malfoy's pale face

'Don't tell me you don't know?' he said delightedly. 'You've got a father and brother at the Ministry and you don't even know? My God, my father told me about it ages ago…heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry… Maybe your father's too junior to know about it, Weasley…yes…they probably don't talk about important stuff in front of him… What about you, Black? Didn't that pathetic excuse of a godfather tell you anything? Must be hard for him… trying to find a job and all considering that he's a disgrace to the wizarding community for being a mongrel and –'

His words were cut off my Arabella getting up very quickly and smacking his across the face. Hermione screeched '_How dare you!' _and glared at Malfoy with fury. Ron, Seamus and Dean were trying to hold Arabella back from strangling Malfoy, but were considering whether or not to let go of her. Harry stood up and slammed the sliding compartment door so hard that the glass shattered. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle disappeared.

'Harry!' said Hermione reproachfully, and she pulled out her wand, muttered 'Reparo!' and the glass shards flew back into a single pane and back into the door.

Ron and Seamus managed to get Arabella to sit down next to the window and Harry sat down beside her. They all took their seats, watching Arabella to see whether or not she would bash to the door and hunt Malfoy down.

'Stupid, pathetic, piece of shit… Uncle Remus could get a job… a better job than whatever his asshole of a father has…' said Arabella, seething in anger. 'And don't let him talk to you like that, Ron! You're father is ten times better than him!'

'Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry,' said Ron hotly. 'Dad could've got a promotion any time… he just likes it where he is…'

'Of course he does,' said Hermione quietly. 'Don't let Malfoy get to you, Ron -'

'Him! Get to me!? As if!' said Ron, picking up one of the remaining Cauldron Cakes and squashing it into a pulp.

Arabella and Ron's bad mood continued for the rest of the journey. They didn't talk much as they changed into their school robes, and was still glowering when the Hogwarts Express slowed down at last and finally stopped in the pitch-darkness of Hogsmeade station.

As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. Hermione bundled up Crookshanks in her cloak and Ron left his dress robes over Pigwidgeon as they left the train, heads bent and eyes narrowed against the downpour. The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly over their heads.

'Hi, Hagrid!' Harry yelled, seeing a gigantic silhouette at the far end of the platform.

'All righ', Harry?' Hagrid bellowed back, waving. 'See yeh at the feast if we don' drown!'

First years traditionally reached Hogwarts Castle by sailing across the lake with Hagrid.

'Oooh, I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather,' said Hermione fervently, shivering as they inched slowly along the dark platform with the rest of the crowd. A hundred horseless carriages stood waiting for them outside the station. Harry, Ron, Arabella, Hermione, and Neville climbed gratefully into one of them, the door shut with a snap, and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was rumbling and splashing its way up the track toward Hogwarts Castle.

**Thank you for reading!**


	9. The Triwizard Tournament

**disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, just Arabella :)**

**Hope you like it!**

The Triwizard Tournament

Arabella could see Hogwarts coming nearer. Lightning flashed across the sky as their carriage came to a halt before the front doors. People who occupied the carriages in front were already hurrying up the stone steps. Arabella, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville jumped down from their carriage and dashed up the stone steps too, looking up only when they were safely inside the entrance hall.

'Blimey,' said Ron, shaking his head and sending water everywhere, 'if that keeps up the lake's going to overflow. I'm soak – ARRGH!'

A large, red, water-filled balloon had dropped from out of the ceiling onto Ron's head and exploded. Drenched and sputtering, Ron staggered sideways into Harry, just as the second water bomb dropped – hitting Arabella's face. Her face was in a grimace as her eyes were closed and her mouth was in a very thin line. People all around them shrieked and started pushing one another in their efforts to get out of the line of fire. Arabella finally opened her eyes and looked up. It was Peeves the Poltergeist.

'PEEVES!' yelled an angry voice. 'Peeves, come down here at ONCE!' Professor McGonagall had come dashing out of the Great Hall; she skidded on the wet floor and grabbed Hermione around the neck to stop herself from falling.

'Ouch – sorry Miss Granger –'

'That's all right, Professor!' Hermione gasped, massaging her throat.

'Peeves, get down here NOW!' barked Professor McGonagall, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upward through her square-rimmed spectacles.

'Not doing nothing!' cackled Peeves, lobbing a water bomb at several fifth-year girls, who screamed and dived into the Great Hall. 'Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!'

And he aimed another bomb at a group of second years who had just arrived.

'I shall call the headmaster!' shouted Professor McGonagall. 'I'm warning you, Peeves -'

Peeves stuck out his tongue, threw the last of his water bombs into the air, and zoomed off up the marble staircase, cackling insanely.

Arabella, Harry, Ron and Hermione slipped and slid across the hall and through the double doors on the right, Ron and Arabella muttering furiously under their breath as they pushed their hairs away from their faces.

'I wish he was human so that I could kill him,' muttered Arabella, glaring at anyone who dared to look at the two of them.

'You and me both,' said Ron furiously.

It was much warmer in the Great Hall. Arabella, Harry, Ron and Hermione walked past the Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables and sat down with the rest of the Gryffindors at the far side of the Hall, next to Nearly Headless Nick.

'Good evening,' he said, beaming at them.

'Says who?' said Harry, trying to push some of Arabella's stubborn hair away from her face. They weren't aware of some of the Gryffindors looking at them or that Seamus and Dean were making a bet. 'Hope they hurry up with the Sorting. I'm starving.'

'Hiya, Harry!'

'Hi, Colin,' said Harry warily.

'Harry, guess what? Guess what, Harry? My brother's starting! My brother Dennis!'

'Er- good,' said Harry.

'He's really excited!' said Colin, practically bouncing up and down in his seat. 'I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Harry?'

'Er – yeah, all right,' said Harry. He turned back to Arabella, Hermione, Ron and Nearly Headless Nick.

'Brothers and sisters usually go in the same Houses, don't they?' he said. He was judging by the Weasleys, all seven of whom had been put into Gryffindor.

'Oh no, not necessarily,' said Hermione. 'Parvati Patil's twin's in Ravenclaw, and they're identical. You'd think they'd be together, wouldn't you?'

Arabella was looking at the staff table. Hagrid's seat was empty, as well as Professor McGonagall's, but there was another empty chair too.

'Where's the new Defense Against the Dark arts teacher?' said Hermione, who was also looking up at the teachers. 'Maybe they didn't get anyone!'

'They're probably just late or something,' said Arabella, absentmindedly.

'Oh hurry up,' Ron moaned, beside Hermione, 'I could eat a hippogriff.'

The words were no sooner out of his mouth then the doors of the great Hall opened and silence fell. Professor McGonagall was leading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall. If Arabella, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were wet, it was nothing to how these first years looked. They looked like they swam across the lake rather than sailed. All of them were shivering with a combination of cold and nerves as they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school.

Professor McGonagall now placed a three-legged stool on the ground before the first years and on top of it, an extremely old, dirty patched wizard's hat. They first years stared at it. So did everybody else. For a moment, there was silence, and then the hat broke out into a song:

_A thousand years or more ago, _

_When I was newly sewn, _

_There lived four wizards of renown, _

_Whose names are still well known: _

_Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor, _

_Fair Ravenclaw, from glen, _

_Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad, _

_Shrewd Slytherin, from fin. _

_They shared a wish, a hope, a dream, _

_They hatched a daring plan _

_To educate young sorcerers _

_Thus Hogwarts School began. _

_Now each of these four founders _

_Formed their own house, for each _

_Did value different virtues _

_In the ones they had to teach. _

_By Gryffindor, the bravest were _

_Prized far beyond the rest; _

_For Ravenclaw, the cleverest _

_Would always be the best; _

_For Hufflepuff, hard workers were _

_Most worthy of admission; _

_And power-hungry Slytherin_

_Loved those of great ambition. _

_While still alive they did divide _

_Their favorites from the throng, _

_Yet how to pick the worthy ones _

_When they were dead and gone? _

_'Twas Gryffindor who found the way, _

_He whipped me off his head _

_The founders put some brains in me _

_So I could choose instead! _

_Now slip me snug about your ears, _

_I've never yet been wrong, _

_I'll have a look inside your mind _

_And tell where you belong!_

The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished.

'That's not the song it sang when it Sorted us,' said Harry, clapping along with everyone else.

'Sings a different one every year,' said Ron. 'It's got to be a pretty boring life, hasn't it, being a hat? I suppose it spends all year making up the next one.'

Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment.

'When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool,' she told the first years. 'When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table.

'Ackerley, Stewart!'

A boy walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot, picked up the Sorting Hat, put it on, and sat down on the stool.

'RAVENCLAW!' shouted the hat.

Stewart Ackerley took off the hat and hurried into a seat at the Ravenclaw table, where everyone was applauding him.

'Baddock, Malcolm!'

'SLYTHERIN!'

The table on the other side of the hall erupted with cheers. Fred and George hissed Malcolm Baddock as he sat down.

'Branstone, Eleanor!'

'HUFFLEPUFF!'

'Cauldwell, Owen!'

'HUFFLEPUFF!'

'Creevey, Dennis!'

'GRYFFINDOR!'

Dennis beamed widely as he took off his hat, placed it back on the stool and hurried over to join his brother.

'Colin, I fell in!' he said shrilly, throwing himself into an empty seat. 'It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and pushed me back in the boat!'

'Cool!' said Colin, just as excitedly. 'It was probably the giant squid, Dennis!'

'Wow!' said Dennis, as though nobody in their wildest dreams could hope for more than being thrown into a storm-tossed, fathoms-deep lake, and pushed out of it again by a giant sea monster.

'Dennis! Dennis! See that boy down there? The one with the black hair and glasses? See him? Know who he is, Dennis?'

Harry continued to look away, staring very hard at the Sorting Hat, now Sorting Emma Dobbs.

'Oh hurry up,' Ron moaned, massaging his stomach as they were Sorting the M's.

'Harry,' whined Arabella from beside him. 'Where's the food? I'm hungry. Make the food appear.'

'It's coming,' said Harry. 'It's coming soon.'

'Now, now, the Sorting's much more important than food,' said Nearly Headless Nick as 'Madley, Laura!' became a Hufflepuff.

'Course it is, if you're dead,' snapped Ron.

'I do hope this year's batch of Gryffindors are up to scratch,' said Nearly Headless Nick, applauding as 'McDonald, Natalie!' joined the Gryffindor table. 'We don't want to break our winning streak, do we?'

'Pritchard, Graham!'

'SLYTHERIN!'

'Quirke, Orla!'

'RAVENCLAW!'

And finally, with 'Whitby, Kevin!' ('HUFFLEPUFF!'), the Sorting ended. Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and the stool and carried them away. 'About time,' said Ron, seizing his knife and fork and looking expectantly at his golden plate.

Professor Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was smiling around at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome.

'I have only two words to say to you,' he told them, his deep voice echoing around the Hall. 'Tuck in.'

'Hear, hear!' said Arabella, Harry and Ron loudly as the empty dishes filled magically before their eyes.

Nearly Headless Nick watched mournfully as Arabella, Harry, Ron, and Hermione loaded their own plates.

'Aaah, 'at's be'er,' said Ron, with his mouth full of mashed potato.

'You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight, you know,' said Nearly Headless Nick. 'There was trouble in the kitchens earlier.'

'Why? Wha' 'appened?' said Harry, through a sizable chunk of steak.

'Peeves, of course,' said Nearly Headless Nick, shaking his head, which wobbled dangerously. He pulled his ruff a little higher up on his neck. 'The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast - well, it's quite out of the question, you know what he's like, utterly uncivilized, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghost's council - the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance – but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down.'

The Bloody Baron was the Slytherin ghost, a gaunt and silent specter covered in silver bloodstains. He was the only person at Hogwarts who could really control Peeves.

'Yeah, we thought Peeves seemed ticked off about something,' said Arabella darkly.

'So what did he do in the kitchens?'

'Oh the usual,' said Nearly Headless Nick, shrugging. 'Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house-elves out of their wits—'

Clang.

Hermione had knocked over her golden goblet. Pumpkin juice spread steadily over the tablecloth, staining several feet of white linen orange, but Hermione paid no attention.

'There are house-elves here?' she said, staring, horror-struck, at Nearly Headless Nick. 'Here at Hogwarts?'

'Certainly,' said Nearly Headless Nick, looking surprised at her reaction. 'The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred.'

'I've never seen one!' said Hermione.

'They don't come out of the kitchen during the day,' said Arabella, swallowing some mashed potatoes. 'They coming out sometimes during the night to do some cleaning.'

'You knew?' said Hermione, shocked.

'Of course I knew,' said Arabella. 'Uncle Remus told me about it. They used to make him some hot chocolate after some particularly bad full moons.'

Hermione stared at her.

'But they get paid?' she said. 'They get holidays, don't they? And - and sick leave, and pensions, and everything?'

Nearly Headless Nick chortled so much that his ruff slipped and his head flopped off, dangling on the inch or so of ghostly skin and muscle that still attached it to his neck.

'Sick leave and pensions?' he said, pushing his head back onto his shoulders and securing it once more with his ruff. 'House-elves don't want sick leave and pensions!'

Hermione looked down at her hardly touched plate of food, then put her knife and fork down upon it and pushed it away from her.

'Oh c'mon, 'Er-my-knee,' said Ron, accidentally spraying Harry with bits of Yorkshire pudding. 'Oops — sorry, 'Arry —' He swallowed. 'You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself!'

'Slave labor,' said Hermione, breathing hard through her nose. 'That's what made this dinner. Slave labor.'

And she refused to eat another bite.

The rain was still drumming heavily against the high, dark glass. Another clap of thunder shook the windows, and the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the golden plates as the remains of the first course vanished and were replaced, instantly, with puddings.

'Treacle tart, Hermione!' said Ron, deliberately wafting its smell toward her. 'Spotted dick, look! Chocolate gateau!'

But Hermione gave him a look so reminiscent of Professor McGonagall that he gave up. When the puddings too had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard.

'So!' said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. 'Now that we are all fed and watered,' ('Hmph!' said Hermione) 'I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.

'Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it.'

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. He continued, 'As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year.

'It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year.'

'What?!' said Arabella and Harry. Arabella looked around to see Fred and George. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently to appalled to speak. Dumbledore went on, 'This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy – but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts –'

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table.

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore, shaking his hand.

Arabella was practically bouncing in her seat. It was Mad-Eye Moody, one of the best Aurors in the world and he is definitely doing to be our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He sat down and pulled a plate of sausage towards him, raised it to his nose and sniffed it.

'May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?' said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. 'Professor Moody.'

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students chapped. It only people to applaud were Arabella, Dumbledore and Hagrid. Arabella jumped up at once and immediately started to clap like a mad women. She was practically buzzing with excitement and everybody was giving her strange looks. It the end, Dumbledore and Hagrid stopped clapping fairly quickly as there was a silence in the Great Hall, and Harry had to pull Arabella back to her seat since she was the only one clapping in the end. Everybody else seemed too transfixed by Moody's appearance to do more than stare at him.

'Is that Mad-Eye Moody?' asked Harry to Arabella. 'The one Mr Weasley had to help this morning?'

'The very same,' said Arabella, smiling.

'What happened to him?' Hermione whispered. 'What happened to his face?'

'He's been an Auror for many, many years,' said Arabella. 'War scars.'

Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome, but gave a curt nod towards Arabella. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his traveling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long gulp from it.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

'As I was saying,' he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, 'we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year.'

'You're JOKING!' said Fred loudly.

The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

'I am not joking, Mr. Weasley,' he said, 'though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar.'

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

'Er - but maybe this is not the time…no…' said Dumbledore, 'where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament…well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely. The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued.'

'Death toll?' Hermione whispered, looking alarmed. But her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Hall; many of them were whispering excitedly to one another.

'There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament,' Dumbledore continued, 'none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger. The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money.'

'I'm going for it!' Fred hissed down the table, his face lighting up with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. He was not the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as the Hogwarts champion. At every House table, Arabella could see people either gazing closely at Dumbledore, or whispering to their neighbours. But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more.

'Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts,' he said, 'the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This' — Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious - 'is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion.' His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces. 'I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen. The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!'

Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall.

'They can't do that!' said George, who had not joined the crowd moving toward the door, but was standing up and glaring at Dumbledore. 'We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?'

'They're not stopping me entering,' said Fred stubbornly, also scowling at the top table. 'The champions'll get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!'

'Yeah,' said Ron, a faraway look on his face. 'Yeah, a thousand Galleons…'

'Come on,' said Hermione, 'we'll be the only ones left here if you don't move.'

Arabella, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George set off for the entrance hall, Fred and George debating the ways in which Dumbledore might stop those who were under seventeen from entering the tournament.

'Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?' said Harry.

'Dunno,' said Fred, 'but it's them we'll have to fool. I reckon a couple of drops of Aging Potion might do it, George…'

'Dumbledore knows you're not of age, though,' said Ron.

'Yeah, but he's not the one who decides who the champion is, is he?' said Fred shrewdly.

'Sounds to me like once this judge knows who wants to enter, he'll choose the best from each school and never mind how old they are. Dumbledore's trying to stop us giving our names.'

'People have died, though!' said Hermione in a worried voice as they walked through a door concealed behind a tapestry and started up another, narrower staircase.

'That was many years ago,' said Arabella.

'Not you, too!' said Hermione.

'It sounds fun,' said Arabella, shrugging.

'Exactly,' said Fred, 'where's the fun without a bit of risk? What if we find out how to get 'round Dumbledore? Fancy entering?'

'What d'you reckon?' Ron asked Harry. 'Be cool to enter, wouldn't it? But I s'pose they might want someone older…Dunno if we've learned enough…'

'I definitely haven't,' came Neville's gloomy voice from behind Fred and George. 'I expect my gran'd want me to try, though. She's always going on about how I should be upholding the family honor. I'll just have to — oops…'

Neville's foot had sunk right through a step halfway up the staircase. There were many of these trick stairs at Hogwarts; it was second nature to most of the older students to jump this particular step, but Neville's memory was notoriously poor. Harry and Ron seized him under the armpits and pulled him out, while a suit of armor at the top of the stairs creaked and clanked, laughing wheezily.

'Shut it, you,' said Ron, banging down its visor as they passed. They made their way up to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, which was concealed behind a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress.

'Password?' she said as they approached.

'Balderdash,' said George, 'a prefect downstairs told me.'

The portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall through which they all climbed. A crackling fire warmed the circular common room, which was full of squashy armchairs and tables. Arabella followed Hermione up the girl's dormitory as she glared at the flames and muttered 'Slave labor' under her breath.

Arabella didn't try to make Hermione see the way the elves would, it would be no point. She got dressed as quick as she could and said goodnight to Hermione, Lavender and Parvati.

Arabella rolled over in her sleep as series of images formed in her mind… _There was a man with a girl next to him, she looked so familiar… He had his arms around her and was whispering something in her ears… She looked horrified, but nodded her head… The scene changed… There was a body on the ground of a cobblestone street… Her hair was fanned out as her arms and legs were bent awkwardly… It was a different girl, but there were some similarities… She turned her head, but her eyes were lifeless and there were blood tears pouring down her face… She opened her mouth and a horrible screeching sound came out –_

Arabella woke up with a start, sweating. She looked at her arms and saw that, to her relief, they weren't bleeding.

'What the hell was that?' she whispered to no one in the dark.

**Thank you for reading!**


	10. Mad-Eye Moody

**disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, just Arabella. Hope you like it!**

Mad-Eye Moody

The storm had blown itself out by the following morning, though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy as Arabella, Harry, Ron and Hermione examined their new course schedules at breakfast. A few seats along, Fred, George, and Lee was discussing magical methods of aging themselves and bluffing their way into the Triwizard Tournament.

'Today's not bad… outside all morning,' said Ron, who was running his finger down the Monday column of his schedule. 'Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures… damn it, we're still with the Slytherins…'

'Double Divinations this afternoon,' said Harry as he and Arabella groaned. Divination was their least favourite subject, apart from potions. Professor Trelawney kept predicting Harry's death while sprouting random nonsense to Arabella.

'You should have given it up like me, shouldn't you?' said Hermione briskly, buttering herself some toast. 'Then you'd be doing something sensible like Arithmancy.'

'You're eating again, I notice,' said Ron, watching Hermione adding liberal amounts of jam to her toast too.

'I've decided there are better ways of making a stand about elf rights,' said Hermione haughtily.

'Yeah…and you were hungry,' said Ron, grinning.

There was a sudden rustling noise above them, and a hundred owls came soaring through the open windows carrying the morning mail. Arabella looked up and saw Shay coming towards her with a lumpy looking envelope. She opened the envelope and ten galleon coins came out with a small note.

_Glad you like the dress. I'd like my scarf when you reply – Remus_

Arabella smiled all the way to Herbology class. She was thinking about the dress and how her mother would have looked in it, but then she was distracted by Professor Sprout showing the class the ugliest plants they had ever seen. They looked less like plants than black slugs. Each was squirming slightly and had a number of large, shiny, swellings which appeared to be full of liquid.

'Bubotubers,' Professor Sprout told them briskly. 'They need squeezing. You will collect the pus -'

'The what?' said Seamus, sounding revolted.

'Pus, Finnigan, pus,' said Professor Sprout, 'and it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, bubotuber pus.' Squeezing the bubotubers was disgusting, but oddly satisfying. As each swelling was popped, a large amount of thick yellowish-green liquid burst forth, which smelled strongly of petrol. They caught it in the bottles as Professor Sprout had indicated, and by the end of the lesson had collected several pints.

'This'll keep Madam Pomfrey happy,' said Professor Sprout, stoppering the last bottle with a cork. 'An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne, bubotuber pus. Should stop students resorting to desperate measures to rid themselves of pimples.'

'Like poor Eloise Midgen,' said Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff, in a hushed voice. 'She tried to curse hers off.'

'Silly girl,' said Professor Sprout, shaking her head. 'But Madam Pomfrey fixed her nose back on in the end.'

A booming bell echoed from the castle across the wet grounds, signaling the end of the lesson, and the class separated; the Hufflepuffs climbing the stone steps for Transfiguration, and the Gryffindors heading in the other direction, down the sloping lawn toward Hagrid's small wooden cabin, which stood on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Hagrid was standing outside his hut, one hand on the collar of his enormous black boarhound, Fang. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet, and Fang was whimpering and straining at his collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely. As they drew nearer, an odd rattling noise reached their ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions.

'Mornin'!' Hagrid said, grinning at Arabella, Harry, Ron, and Hermione. 'Be'er wait fer the Slytherins, they won' want ter miss this - Blast-Ended Skrewts!'

'Come again?' said Ron.

Hagrid pointed down into the crates.

'Eurgh!' squealed Lavender, jumping backward. That just about summed up the Blast-Ended Skrewts in Arabella's opinion. They looked like deformed shell-less lobsters, horribly pale and slimy-looking, with legs sticking out in very odd places and no visible heads. There were about a hundred of them in each crate, each about six inches long, crawling over one another, bumping blindly into the sides of the boxes. They were giving off a very powerful smell of rotting fish. Every now and then, sparks would fly out of a skrewt, and with a small phut, it would be propelled forward several inches.

'On'y jus' hatched,' said Hagrid proudly, 'so yeh'll be able ter raise 'em yerselves! Thought we'd make a bit of a project of it!'

'And why would we want to raise them?' said a cold voice.

The Slytherins had arrived. The speaker was Draco Malfoy, who as spotting a red visible mark on his left cheek. Crabbe and Goyle were chuckling appreciatively at his words.

Hagrid looked stumped at the question.

'I mean, what do they do?' asked Malfoy. 'What is the point of them?'

Hagrid opened his mouth, apparently thinking hard; there was a few seconds' pause, then he said roughly, 'Tha's next lesson, Malfoy. Yer jus' feedin' 'em today. Now, yeh'll wan' ter try 'em on a few diff'rent things - I've never had 'em before, not sure what they'll go fer - I got ant eggs an' frog livers an' a bit o' grass snake - just try 'em out with a bit of each.'

'First pus and now this,' muttered Seamus.

Nothing but deep affection for Hagrid could have made Arabella, Ron, and Hermione pick up squelchy handfuls of frog liver and lower them into the crates to tempt the Blast-Ended Skrewts.

'Ouch!' yelled Dean after about ten minutes. 'It got me.'

Hagrid hurried over to him, looking anxious.

'Its end exploded!' said Dean angrily, showing Hagrid a burn on his hand.

'Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off,' said Hagrid, nodding.

'Eurgh!' said Lavender again. 'Eurgh, Hagrid, what's that pointy thing on it?'

'Ah, some of 'em have got stings,' said Hagrid enthusiastically (Lavender quickly withdrew her hand from the box). 'I reckon they're the males…The females've got sorta sucker things on their bellies…I think they might be ter suck blood.'

'Well, I can certainly see why we're trying to keep them alive,' said Malfoy sarcastically. 'Who wouldn't want pets that can burn, sting, and bite all at once?'

'Just because they're not very pretty, it doesn't mean they're not useful,' Hermione snapped. 'Dragon blood's amazingly magical, but you wouldn't want a dragon for a pet, would you?'

Arabella, Harry and Ron grinned at Hagrid, who gave them a furtive smile from behind his beard.

'Well, at least the skrewts are small,' said Ron as they made their way back up to the castle for lunch an hour later.

'They are now,' said Hermione in an exasperated voice, 'but once Hagrid's found out what they eat, I expect they'll be six feet long.'

'Well, that won't matter if they turn out to cure seasickness or something, will it?' said Ron, grinning slyly at her.

'You know perfectly well I only said that to shut Malfoy up,' said Hermione. 'As a matter of fact I think he's right. The best thing to do would be to stamp on the lot of them before they start attacking us all.'

They sat down at the Gryffindor table and helped themselves to lamb shops and potatoes. Hermione began to eat so fast that Arabella, Harry and Ron stared at her.

'What are you doing?' asked Arabella. 'Is this some new stand on elf right? Trying to make yourself puke?'

'No,' said Hermione. 'I just want to get to the library.'

'What?' said Ron in disbelief. 'Hermione – it's the first day back! We haven't even got homework yet!'

Hermione shrugged and continued to shovel down her food as though she had not eaten for days. Then she leapt to her feet, said, 'See you at dinner!' and departed at high speed.

When the bell rang to signal the start of afternoon lessons, Arabella, Harry and Ron set off for North Tower where a silver stepladder led to a circular trapdoor in the ceiling, and the room where Professor Trelawney lived. Arabella, Harry and Ron sat down at the small circular table they had last year.

'Good day,' said the misty voice of Professor Trelawney right behind Harry, making him jump. Professor Trelawney was peering down at Harry with the tragic expression she always wore whenever she saw him.

'You are preoccupied, my dear,' she said mournfully to Harry. 'My inner eye sees past your brave face to the troubled soul within. And I regret to say that your worries are not baseless. I see difficult times ahead for you, alas…most difficult…I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass…and perhaps sooner than you think…'

She turned to Arabella, bring her right hand into hers. 'It seems eight has been your fortune all along… but with every good fortune will come great suffering… battle on my dear…'

Her voice dropped almost to a whisper. Ron rolled his eyes as Arabella and Harry looked coldly back at her. Professor Trelawney swept past them and seated herself in a large winged armchair before the fire, facing the class.

'My dears, it is time for us to consider the stars,' she said. 'The movements of the planets and the mysterious portents they reveal only to those who understand the steps of the celestial dance. Human destiny may be deciphered by the planetary rays, which intermingle…'

Arabella tried her best to listen, but she drifted off, thinking of more important things or just something else. It seemed like her faith had been changed to eight, whatever the hell that meant. And the fact that she would most likely be suffering her whole life, what joy! Last year, when her faith was apparently six, Arabella guessed that mean that she would be having six kids, all Ron's idea. She hardly thought that was true. Who would push out six kids from her stomach, or where ever it comes from? Sounds painful. But maybe eight might be the number of people she would lose by the time she dies. It all sounds like complete rubbish, if she was being honest, but there was a nagging feeling inside of her that was still concern about the weird numbers that Professor Trelawney kept telling her.

'Harry!' Ron muttered.

'What?' said Harry, as he and Arabella were brought out of their trance. They looked around and saw that the whole class was staring at Harry. He sat up straighter.

'I was saying, my dear, that you were clearly born under the baleful influence of Saturn,' said Professor Trelawney.

'Born under – what, sorry?' said Harry.

'Saturn, dear, the planet Saturn!' said Professor Trelawney, sounding irritated. 'I was saying that Saturn was surely in a position of power in the heavens at the moment of your birth… Your dark hair… you mean stature… tragic losses so young in life… I think I am right in saying, my dear, that you were born in midwinter?'

'No' said Harry, 'I was born in July.'

Arabella and Ron turned their laughter into hacking coughs.

Half an hour later, each of them had been given a complicated circular chart, and was attempting to fill in the position of the planets at their moment of birth.

'I have Venus and Mars,' said Arabella, looking at her parchement. 'Clearly something's going on between the two of them.'

'I've got two Neptunes here,' said Harry, frowning down at his piece of parchment, 'that can't be right, can it?'

'Aaaah,' said Ron, imitating Professor Trelawney's whisper, 'when two Neptunes appear in the sky, it is a sure sign that a midget is being born, Harry…'

Seamus and Dean, who were working nearby, sniggered loudly, though not loudly enough to mask the excited squeals from Lavender – 'Oh Professor, look! I think I've got an unsuspected planet! Oooh, which one's that, Professor?'

'It is Uranus, my dear,' said Professor Trelawney, peering down at the chart.

'Can I have a look at Uranus too, Lavender?' said Ron.

Arabella started to laugh and was practically clutching on to Harry for support as her insides were hurting. Professor Trelawney heard him, and it was because of this that made her give them so much of homework at the end of the class.

'A detailed analysis of the way the planetary movements in the coming month will affect you, with reference to your personal chart,' she snapped, sounding much more like Professor McGonagall than her usual airy-fairy self. 'I want it ready to hand in next Monday, and no excuses!'

'Miserable old bat,' said Ron bitterly as they joined the crowds descending the staircases back to the Great Hall and dinner. 'That'll take all weekend, that will…'

'Lots of homework?' said Hermione brightly, catching up with them. 'Professor Vector didn't give us any at all!'

'Well, bully for Professor Vector,' said Ron moodily.

They reached the entrance hall, which was packed with people queuing for dinner. They had just joined the end of the line, when a loud voice rang out behind them.

'Weasley! Hey, Weasley!'

Arabella, Harry, Ron and Hermione turned. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing there, each looking thoroughly pleased about something.

'What?' said Ron shortly.

'Your dad's in the paper, Weasley!' said Malfoy, brandishing a copy of the Daily Prophet and speaking very loudly, so that everyone in the packed entrance hall could hear. 'Listen to this!'

_FURTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC _

_It seems as though the Ministry of Magic's troubles are not yet at an end, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office.' _

Malfoy looked up.

'Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley. It's almost as though he's a complete nonentity, isn't it?' he crowed.

Everyone in the entrance hall was listening now. Malfoy straightened the paper with a flourish and read on:

_Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers ('policemen') over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr. Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of 'Mad-Eye' Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder. Unsurprisingly, Mr. Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr. Moody's heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer Daily Prophet questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene. _

'And there's a picture, Wealsey!' said Malfoy, flipping the paper over and holding it up. 'A picture of your parents outside their house – if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?'

Ron was shaking with fury. Everyone was staring at him.

'Piss off, Malfoy,' said Arabella. 'Let's go, Ron…'

'Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Black?' sneered Malfoy. 'So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?'

'Would you like me to talk about your mother?' snapped Arabella, rounding off at him. Harry and Hermione grabbed the back of Ron's robes to stop him from launching at Malfoy. 'Let's talk about the expression she's got, like she has something disgusting under her nose, or is that because of _you_?'

Malfoy's face went slightly pink.

'Don't you dare insult my mother, Black.'

'Keep your fat mouth shut, then,' said Arabella, turning away.

BANG!

Several people screamed. Arabella felt something white-hot graze the side of her face. She was about to go reach for her wand, Harry doing the same, but before they both could even touch it, she heard a second loud BANG, and a roar that echoed through the entrance hall.

'OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!'

Arabella spun around. Mad-Eye was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Malfoy had been standing. There was a terrified silence in the entrance hall. Nobody but Mad-Eye was moving a muscle. He turned to look at Arabella, while his artificial one was looking at the back of his head.

'Did he get you?' Mad-Eye growled, his voice low and rough.

'No, he missed,' said Arabella.

'LEAVE IT!' Mad-Eye shouted.

'Leave - what?' Arabella said, bewildered.

'Not you - him!' Mad-Eye growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret. It seemed that Moody's rolling eye was magical and could see out of the back of his head.

Mad-Eye started to limp toward Crabbe, Goyle, and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking toward the dungeons. Mad-Eye started to limp toward Crabbe, Goyle, and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking toward the dungeons.

'I don't think so!' roared Mad-Eye, pointing his wand at the ferret again - it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upward once more.

'I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned,' growled Mad-Eye as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. 'Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do…'

The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly. 'Never - do - that - again -' said Mad-Eye, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upward again.

'Professor Moody!' said a shocked voice.

Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books.

'Hello, Professor McGonagall,' said Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher.

'What – what are you doing?' said Professor McGonagall, her eyes following the bouncing ferret's progress through the air.

'Teaching,' said Mad-Eye.

'Teach – Moody, is that a student?' shrieked Professor McGonagall, the books spilling out of her arms.

'Yep,' said Mad-Eye.

'No!' cried Professor McGonagall, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Malfoy had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing.

'Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!' said Professor McGonagall. 'Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?'

'He might've mentioned it, yeah,' said Mad-Eye, scratching his chin unconcernedly, 'but I thought a good sharp shock -'

'We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!'

'I'll do that, then,' said Mad-Eye, staring at Malfoy with great dislike.

Malfoy, whose pale eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation, looked malevolently up at Mad-Eye and muttered something in which the words 'my father' were distinguishable.

'Oh yeah?' said Mad-Eye quietly, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of his wooden leg echoing around the hall. 'Well, I know your father of old, boy…You tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son… you tell him that from me…Now, your Head of House'll be Snape, will it?'

'Yes,' said Malfoy resentfully.

'Another old friend,' growled Mad-Eye. 'I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape…Come on, you…'

And he seized Malfoy's upper arm and marched him off toward the dungeons.

Professor McGonagall stared anxiously after them for a few moments, then waved her wand at her fallen books, causing them to soar up into the air and back into her arms.

'Don't talk to me,' Ron said quietly to Arabella, Harry and Hermione as they sat down at the Gryffindor table a few minutes later, surrounded by excited talk on all sides about what had just happened.

'Why not?' said Hermione in surprise.

'Because I want to fix that in my memory forever,' said Ron, his eyes closed and an uplifted expression on his face. 'Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret.'

Arabella, Harry and Hermione laughed, and Hermione began to serve beef casseroles onto each of their plates.

'He could have really hurt Malfoy, though,' she said. 'It was good, really, that Professor McGonagall stopped it -'

'Hermione!' said Ron furiously, his eyes snapping open again, 'you're ruining the best moment of my life!'

Hermione made an impatient noise and began to eat at top speed again.

'Don't tell me you're going back to the library this evening?' said Harry, watching her.

'Got to,' said Hermione thickly. 'Loads to do.'

'But you told us Professor Vector -'

'It's not schoolwork,' she said. Within five minutes, she had cleared her plate and departed. No sooner had she gone than her seat was taken by Fred.

'Moody!' he said. 'How cool is he?'

'Beyond cool,' said George, sitting down opposite Fred. 'Supercool,' said Lee, sliding into the seat beside George. 'We had him this afternoon,' he told Arabella, Harry and Ron.

'What was he like?' said Harry eagerly.

Fred, George, and Lee exchanged looks full of meaning.

'Never had a lesson like it,' said Fred.

'He knows, man,' said Lee.

'Knows what?' said Ron, leaning forward.

'Knows what it's like to be out there doing it,' said George impressively.

'Doing what?' said Harry.

'Fighting the Dark Arts,' said Fred.

'He's seen it all,' said George.

''Mazing,' said Lee.

Ron dived into his bag for his schedule.

'We haven't got him till Thursday!' he said in a disappointed voice.

**Thank you for reading!**


	11. The Unforgivable Curses

**disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, just Arabella. Hope you like it!**

The Unforgivable Curses

The next two days passed by without any incidents, with the exception of Neville melting his sixth cauldron in Potions. Professor Snape gave Neville detention, and Neville returned from it in a state of nervous collapse.

'You know why Snape's in such a foul mood, don't you?' said Ron to Arabella and Harry as they watched Hermione teaching Neville a Scouring Charm to remove the toad guts from under his fingernails.

'Yeah,' said Harry. 'Moody. I reckon Snape's a bit scared of him, you know.'

'He should be,' said Arabella, snorted. 'Scary bloke.'

'Imagine if Moody turned Snape into a horned toad,' said Ron, his eyes misting over, 'and bounced him all around his dungeon…'

The Gryffindor fourth years were looking forward to Mad-Eye's first lesson so much that they arrived early on Thursday lunchtime and queued up outside his classroom before the bell had even rung. The only person missing was Hermione, who turned up just in time for the lesson.

'Been in the –'

'Library.' Harry finished her sentence for her. 'C'mon quick, or we won't get decent seats.'

They hurried to the front of the class. Harry and Ron taking the seats in front of Arabella and Hermione. Harry, Ron and Hermione took out their copies of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, while Arabella left hers in her bag. They sat there waiting, the room was unusually quiet. Soon they heard Mad-Eye's clunking footsteps coming down the corridor, and he entered the room.

'You can put those away' he growled, stumping over to his desk and sitting down, 'those book. You won't need them.'

They returned the books to their bags. Mad-Eye took out a register and began to call out names, his normal eye moving down the list while his magical eye swiveled around, fixing upon each student as they answered.

'Right then, I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures – you've covered boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?'

There was a general murmur of assent.

'But you're behind – very behind – on dealing with curses,' said Mad-Eye. 'So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark –'

'What, aren't you staying?' Ron blustered out.

Mad-Eye's magical ye spun around and stared at Ron, who looked extremely anxious. After a moment, Mad-Eye smiled. Ron looked deeply relieved.

'You'll be Arthur Weasley's son, eh?' Mad-Eye said. 'Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago…Yeah, I'm staying just the one year. Special favor to Dumbledore…One year, and then back to my quiet retirement.'

He gave a harsh laugh, and then clapped his gnarled hands together.

'So - straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you countercurses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in the sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to put that away, Miss Brown, when I'm talking.'

Lavender jumped and blushed. She had been showing her complete horoscope under the desk.

'So…do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?'

Several hands went up into the air, including, Arabella's, Ron's and Hermione's. Mad-Eye pointed at Ron, though his magical eye was fixed on Lavender.

'Er,' said Ron tentatively, 'my dad told me about one…Is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?'

'Ah, yes,' said Mad-Eye appreciatively. 'Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse.'

Mad-Eye got heavily to his mismatched feet, opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass jar. Three large black spiders were scuttling around inside it. Mad-Eye reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders, and held it in the palm of his hand so that they could all see it. He then pointed his wand at it and muttered, 'Imperio!'

The spider leapt from Mad-Eye's hand on a fine thread of silk and began to swing backward and forward as though on a trapeze. It stretched out its legs rigidly, then did a back flip, breaking the thread and landing on the desk, where it began to cartwheel in circles. Mad-Eye jerked his wand, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance.

Everyone was laughing – everyone except for Mad-Eye and Arabella, who was frowning with her arms crossed.

'Think it's funny, do you?' he growled. 'You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?'

The laughter died away almost instantly.

'Total control,' said Mad-Eye quietly as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. 'I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats…'

Ron gave an involuntary shudder.

'Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse,' said Mad-Eye, and Arabella knew exactly that he was talking about the days where Voldemort had been powerful, but there were days, even years, after the war that were just as bad. 'Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting on their own free will.

'The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being his with it of you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!' he barked, and everyone jumped, except for Arabella, who was used to this.

Mad-Eye picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar.

'Anyone else know on?' Another illegal curse?'

Arabella's and Hermione's hands went in the air and so was Neville's, to Arabella's slight surprise. Even Neville looked surprised at his own daring.

Yes?' said Mad-Eye, his magical eye rolling right over to fix on Neville.

'There's one - the Cruciatus Curse,' said Neville in a small but distinct voice.

Mad-Eye was looking very intently at Neville, this time with both eyes. Arabella started to rub both her arms; they started to sting a bit.

'Your name's Longbottom?' he said, his magical eye swooping down to check the register again. Neville nodded nervously, but Mad-Eye said nothing further. Turning back to the class at large, he reached into the jar for the next spider and placed it upon the desktop, where it remained motionless, apparently too scared to move.

'The Cruciatus Curse,' said Moody. 'Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea,' he said, pointing his wand at the spider. 'Engorgio!'

The spider swelled. It was now larger than a tarantula. Abandoning all pretense, Ron pushed his chair backward, as far away from Moody's desk as possible. Mad-Eye raised his wand again, pointed it at the spider, and muttered, 'Crucio!'

At once, the spider's legs bent it upon it body, it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. Everybody else saw a spider being tortured, all Arabella saw was her mother, lying on the floor, sweating, screaming, coming undone by four Death Eaters. She had to stop it; she had to do something, whether it's for the spider or her mother, or even Neville. She had to - 'STOP!'

Everyone looked at her. Arabella was sweating, and she saw some blood on her sleeve cuffs. She turned around to Neville. His hands were clenched upon the desk in front of him, his knuckles white, his eyes wide and horrified. Mad-Eye raised his wand. The spider's legs relaxed, but it continued to twitch.

'Reducio,' Mad-Eye muttered, and the spider shrunk back to its proper size. He put it back into the jar.

'Pain,' said Mad-Eye softly. 'You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse… There aren't many people who could survive it, some go insane, out of their minds, some are killed after this...'

He was staring intently at Arabella with both of his eyes. Arabella was glaring at him with such hatred that she didn't know she could manifest for anybody in the world.

'That one was very popular once too,' said Mad-Eye. 'Right… anyone know any others?'

Arabella looked around. From the looks on everyone's faces, they were all wondering what was going to happen to the last spider. Nobody raised their hand, not even Hermione raised her hand. She looked like she wanted to get as far away from this class as possible.

Mad-Eye put his hand into the glass jar and walked to Arabella's desk and placed the spider in front of her.

'The last spell,' said Mad-Eye.

Arabella didn't say anything, she didn't move. She just kept staring at the spider.

'Black,' Mad-Eye growled.

Arabella mumbled something under her breath, but nobody heard her.

'What was that?' said Mad-Eye.

'Avada Kedavra!' shouted Arabella, shaking slightly and thoroughly pissed off.

Several people jumped and looked uneasily around her, including Hermione.

'Ah,' said Mad-Eye, a slight smile twisting his mouth. 'Yes, the last and worst. Avada Kedavra… the Killing Curse.'

Mad-Eye raised his wand, and Arabella was felt something explode in the bottom of her stomach. She wanted to look away, there was no point in seeing this, but she couldn't look away, her eyes didn't move at all.

'Avada Kedavra!' Mad-Eye roared.

There was a flash of green light and a rushing sound – instantaneously the spider rolled over onto its back, dead. Several students stifled cries. Mad-Eye swept the dead spider off Arabella's desk onto the floor.

'Not nice,' he said calmly, walking back to the front of the class. 'Not pleasant. And there's no countercurse. There's no blocking it. Only one know person has ever survived it, and he's sitting right in front of me.'

Mad-Eye was looking at Harry with both of his eyes. Everyone was looking at Harry.

Arabella wasn't paying attention; she kept staring at the dead spider on the ground. She felt pathetic that she couldn't stop a spider from death. If only she said something, got some help, done anything. Over the years, she kept picturing her mother's death over and over again. Everything Mad-Eye showed them was nothing new for her. The pain, the green light, lifeless bodies… Sometimes she would just picture Bellatrix Lestrange, giddy with excitement that a half-blood would soon leave this world. Even after all these years, everything was still clear in her head, like it happened yesterday.

Once in a while she would daydream about getting payback. She remembers their faces, the four Death Eaters. Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange and Barty Crouch Jr. When she was younger, she would say those names, like a prayer or a promise, then she would say, 'And death will find you.' She didn't particularly care about the others, but she wanted Bellatrix. Arabella didn't care who killed the two Lestrange brothers or Crouch Jr. or what would happen to them in the end, but Bellatrix was hers. Bellatrix didn't deserve Azkaban; it was child's play for the likes of her. No, Bellatrix Lestrange deserved death, no matter what, she deserved to die. Not just because of what she did to Arabella, but what she did to everybody else, including Neville.

Mad-Eye was speaking again. With a massive effort, Arabella pulled herself back to the present and listened to what Mad-Eye was saying.

'Avada Kedavra's a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it- you could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it.

'Now, if there's no countercurse, why am I showing you? Because you've got to know. You've got to appreciate what the worst is. You don't want to find yourself in a situation where you're facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!' he roared, and the whole class jumped again.

'Now…those three curses - Avada Kedavra, Imperius, and Cruciatus - are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban. That's what you're up against. That's what I've got to teach you to fight. You need preparing. You need arming. But most of all, you need to practice constant, never-ceasing vigilance. Get out your quills…copy this down…'

They spent the rest of the lesson taking notes on each of the Unforgivable Curses. No one spoke until the bell rang - but when Moody had dismissed them and they had left the classroom, a torrent of talk burst forth. Most people were discussing the curses in awed voices –

'Did you see it twitch?'

'- and when he killed it – just like that!'

They were talking about the lesson like it was some spectacular show, but Arabella wanted to yell at them, wring their necks and tell them the harsh truth of it all.

'Hurry up,' said Hermione to Arabella, Harry and Ron.

'Not the ruddy library again?' said Ron.

'No,' said Hermione curtly, pointing up a side passage. 'Neville.'

Neville was standing alone, halfway up the passage, staring at the stone wall opposite him with the same horrified, wide-eyed look he had worn when Moody had demonstrated the Cruciatus Curse.

'Neville?' Hermione said gently.

Neville looked around.

'Oh hello,' he said, his voice much higher than usual. 'Interesting lesson, wasn't it? I wonder what's for dinner, I'm - I'm starving, aren't you?'

'Neville, are you all right?' said Hermione.

'Oh yes, I'm fine,' Neville gabbled in the same unnaturally high voice. 'Very interesting dinner - I mean lesson - what's for eating?'

Ron gave Arabella and Harry a startled look.

'Neville, what -?'

But a clunking noise sounded behind them, and they turned to see Mad-Eye limping towards them. All five of them fell silent, watching his anxiously.

'It's all right, sonny,' he said to Neville. 'Why don't you come up to my office? Come on… we can have a cup of tea…'

Neville looked even more frightened at the prospect of tea with Mad-Eye. He neither moved nor spoke. Mad-Eye turned his magical eye upon Harry.

'You all right, are you, Potter?'

'Yes,' said Harry, almost definitely.

Mad-Eye turned to Arabella, 'You okay there, Black?'

Arabella didn't say anything back to him. There were so many things she wanted to tell him, but none of them were appropriate in front of teachers.

'They've got to know,' said Mad-Eye, coming closer to Arabella. 'It seems harsh, maybe, but they've got to know. No point pretending… well… come on, Longbottom, I've got some books that might interest you.'

Neville looked pleadingly at Arabella, Harry, Ron and Hermione, but they didn't say anything, so Neville had no choice but to following Mad-Eye for some tea.

'What was that about?' said Ron, watching Neville and Moody turn the corner.

'I don't know,' said Hermione, looking pensive.

'Some lesson, though, eh?' said Ron to Arabella and Harry as they set off for the Great Hall. 'Fred and George were right, weren't they? He really knows his stuff, Moody, doesn't he? When he did Avada Kedavra, the way that spider just died, just snuffed it right -'

But Ron fell suddenly silent at the looks on their faces and didn't speak again until they reached the Great Hall, when he said he supposed they had better make a start on Professor Trelawney's predictions tonight, since they would take hours.

Hermione did not join in with Arabella, Harry and Ron's conversation during dinner, but ate furiously fast and then left for the library again. Arabella, Harry and Ron walked back to the Gryffindor Tower, and Harry raised the subject of the Unforgivable Curses.

'Wouldn't Moody and Dumbledore be in trouble with the Ministry if they knew we'd seen the curses?' Harry asked as they approached the Fat Lady.

'Yeah, probably,' said Ron. 'But Dumbledore's always done things his way, hasn't he, and Moody's been getting in trouble for years, I reckon. Attacks first and asks questions later - look at his dustbins. Balderdash.'

The Fat Lady swung forward to reveal the entrance hole, and they climbed into the Gryffindor common room, which was crowded and noisy.

'Shall we get our Divination stuff, then?' said Harry.

'I s'pose,' Ron groaned.

Harry and Ron went up to their dormitory as Arabella found a table to work on their predictions for the coming month. They both came back and the three of them set off to work. An hour later, they had made very little progress and Arabella's brain was blanking out.

'I have no idea what this is supposed to mean,' said Arabella, looking down at her parchment.

'You know,' said Ron, whose hair was on end because of all the times he had run his fingers through it in frustration, 'I think it's back to the old Divination standby.'

'What - make it up?' said Harry.

'Yeah,' said Ron, sweeping the jumble of scrawled notes off the table, dipping his pen into some ink, and starting to write.

'Next Monday,' he said as he scribbled, 'I am likely to develop a cough, owing to the unlucky conjunction of Mars and Jupiter.' He looked up at Arabella and Harry. 'You know her - just put in loads of misery, she'll lap it up.'

'Right,' said Harry, crumpling up his first attempt and lobbing it over the heads of a group of chattering first years into the fire. 'Okay…on Monday, I will be in danger of- er - burns.'

'I'll meet a new dangerous person that I will think of as my friend, because of… Venus and Mar clashing,' said Arabella, uncertainty scribbling it on her parchment.

'Okay,' said Ron, 'on Tuesady, I'll… erm…'

'Lose a treasured possession,' said Harry, who was flickering through Unfogging the Future for ideas.

'Good one,' said Ron, copying it down. 'Because of…erm…Mercury. Why don't you get stabbed in the back by someone you thought was a friend?'

'Yeah…cool…' said Harry, scribbling it down, 'because…Venus is in the twelfth house.'

'I'll be caught between those two friends, trying to pick sides,' said Arabella.

'And on Wednesday, I think I'll come off worst in a fight,' said Ron.

'Aaah, I was going to have a fight. Okay, I'll lose a bet,' said Harry.

'Yeah, you can bet that Ron was going to win,' said Arabella.

'And you could be make a really bad decision that would jeopardise your friendship with us,' said Harry.

They continued to make up predictions for another hour, while the common room around them slowly emptied as people went up to bed. Arabella was going to meet somebody new that she trusted, but was completely evil, caught between two friends, make a really bad decision that could ruin her friendship with them, get one of the biggest shocks of her life, break her ankle and her arm, and get kidnapped.

Staring around the room, trying to think of some misfortune that they didn't use yet, Arabella saw Fred and George sitting together against the opposite wall, heads together, quills out, poring over a single parchment. It was most unusual to see Fred and George hidden in a corner of the room, working silently and looked up at her. Arabella smiled and quickly returned to her predictions, she didn't want them to think she was eavesdropping.

Shortly after, Fred and George rolled up their parchments, and said goodnight. They had been gone ten minutes or so when the portrait hole opened and Hermione climbed into the common room carrying a bunch of parchment in one hand and a box whose contents rattled as she walked in the other.

'Hello,' she said, 'I've just finished!'

'So have I!' said Ron triumphantly, throwing down his quill.

Hermione sat down, laid the things she was carrying in an empty armchair, and pulled Ron's predictions toward her.

'Not going to have a very good month, are you?' she said sardonically as Crookshanks curled up in her lap.

'Ah well, at least I'm forewarned,' Ron yawned.

'You seem to be drowning twice,' said Hermione.

'Oh am I?' said Ron, peering down at his predictions. 'I'd better change one of them to getting trampled by a rampaging hippogriff.'

'Don't you think it's a bit obvious you've made these up?' said Hermione.

'How dare you!' said Ron, in mock outrage. 'We've been working like house-elves here!'

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

'It's just an expression,' said Ron hastily.

Harry laid down their quills too.

'What's in the box?' said Harry, pointing at it.

'Funny you should ask,' said Hermione, with a nasty look at Ron. She took off the lid and showed them the contents. Inside were about fifty badges, all of different colors, but all bearing the same letters: S.P.E.W.

'Spew?' said Harry, picking up a badge and looking at it. 'What's this about?'

'Not spew,' said Hermione impatiently. 'It's S-P-E-W. Stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare.'

'Never heard of it,' said Ron.

'Well, of course you haven't,' said Hermione briskly, 'I've only just started it.'

'Yeah?' said Ron in mild surprise. 'How many members have you got?'

'Well - if you three join - four,' said Hermione.

'And what makes you think we're going to go walking around the school with badges saying 'spew' on them?' said Arabella, raising her right eyebrow.

'S-P-E-W!' said Hermione hotly. 'I was going to put Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status - but it wouldn't fit. So that's the heading of our manifesto.'

She brandished the bundle of parchment at them.

'I've been researching it thoroughly in the library. Elf enslavement goes back centuries. I can't believe no one's done anything about it before now.'

'Hermione - open your ears,' said Ron loudly. 'They. Like. It. They like being enslaved!'

'Our short-term aims,' said Hermione, speaking even more loudly than Ron, and acting as though she hadn't heard a word, 'are to secure house-elves fair wages and working conditions. Our long-term aims include changing the law about nonwand use, and trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, because they're shockingly underrepresented.'

'And how do we do all this?' Harry asked.

'We start by recruiting members,' said Hermione happily. 'I thought two Sickles to join - that buys a badge - and the proceeds can fund our leaflet campaign. You're treasurer, Ron - I've got you a collecting tin upstairs - and Harry, you're secretary, so you might want to write down everything I'm saying now, as a record of our first meeting. Arabella, you'll be the recruiter and my VP.'

There was a pause in which Hermione beamed at them. Arabella sat, torn between exasperation at Hermione and amusement at Ron's face. It was a nice idea, but Hermione didn't understand house-elves yet. The silence was broken by a soft tap, tap on the window. Arabella and Harry looked across the empty common room and saw an owl on the windowsill.

'Hedwig!' shouted Harry, and he launched himself out of his chai and across the room to pull open the window.

Hedwig flew inside, soared across the room, and landed in the table on top of Harry's prediction.

'About time!' said Harry, hurrying after her.

'She's got two letters!' said Ron excitedly, pointing at the two pieces of parchment tied to Hedwig's lef.

Harry hastily untied them and hand one to Arabella.

'What does it say?' said Hermione breathlessly.

Harry opened his first. It was very short and looked like it was written in a great hurry.

_Harry –_

_I'm flying north immediately. This news about your scar is the latest in a series of strange rumors that have reached me here. If it hurts again, go straight to Dumbledore - they're saying he's got Mad-Eye out of retirement, which means he's reading the signs, even if no one else is. I'll be in touch soon. My best to Arabella, Ron and Hermione. Keep your eyes open, Harry. _

_Sirius_

Harry looked up to Arabella, Ron and Hermione, who stared back at him.

'He's flying north?' Hermione whispered. 'He's coming back?'

'Dumbledore's reading what signs?' said Ron, looking perplexed. 'Harry - what's up?'

For Harry had just hit himself in the forehead with his fist, jolting Hedwig out of his lap.

'I shouldn't've told him!' Harry said furiously.

'What the hell are you talking about?' said Arabella, surprised.

'It's made him think he's got to come back!' said Harry, now slamming his fist on the table so that Hedwig landed on the back of Ron's chair, hooting indignantly. 'Coming back, because he thinks I'm in trouble! And there's nothing wrong with me! And I haven't got anything for you,' Harry snapped at Hedwig, who was clicking her beak expectantly, 'you'll have to go up to the Owlery if you want food.'

Hedwig gave him an extremely offended look and took off for the open window, cuffing him around the head with her outstretched wing as she went.

'Harry,' Hermione began, in a appeasing sort of voice.

'I'm going to bed,' said Harry shortly. 'See you in the morning.'

Harry stomped off to his dormitory, leaving the three of them in silence. Arabella opened her letter wordlessly and read it quietly.

_Arabella –_

_As you have probably read from Harry's letter I'm flying north. Don't worry about me, I'm going to stay hidden. Watch out for Harry, his scar hurting is a strange sign. If it happens again, take him straight to Dumbledore. Hope you got the dress, Moony managed to find it somewhere. I'll be in touch soon. Give my best to Ron and Hermione. I miss you. _

_Sirius. _

Ron and Hermione went up to their dormitory, leaving Arabella with her thoughts.

She wanted to write back to him, but didn't know what to say or ask. It was much easier when she was face to face with him. Sirius's easy smile and happy eyes made her feel at ease, but this was different. She wanted to tell him about the lesson they just had, and about the dream she had a couple days ago. She would have told Remus, but she didn't know how to put this all into a letter. It was only know that she noticed that she was the only person left in the common room with the fire soon burning out.

**Thank you for reading!**


	12. Beauxbaton and Durmstrang

**disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, just Arabella. Hope you like it!**

Beauxbaton and Durmstrang

Early next morning, Arabella woke up, got dressed, took out some parchment and quill and wrote a quick letter to Sirius.

_Dad _

_Harry's most probably going to write to you saying that his scar hurting is just something he created in his mind. Don't believe him. Stay hidden, don't do anything stupid. I miss you. _

_Arabella_

She then left the dormitory alone, climbed out of the portrait hole and walked silently towards the Owlery. She managed to spot Shay sleeping between Hedwig and a plain brown owl.

Arabella managed to get Shay to wake up and take the letter.

'It's for Sirius, make sure you're not seen if you find him,' Arabella whispered to Shay, who seemed to understand. He closed his eyes and rubbed her cheek for a moment before spreading his wings and taking off.

Arabella stood there until she could barely make out where Shay was. She turned around when she heard footsteps. It wasn't against the rules to be here, but who knows who it could be, really. Thankfully, it was Harry.

'Oh, morning,' he said, shocked. He was holding a letter in his left hand.

'Is that for Sirius?' asked Arabella, looking at the letter.

'Yeah,' said Harry, going over to Hedwig, trying to persuade her to look at him and take the letter from him. Hedwig was obviously furious at him for his treatment last night.

'Just find him, all right?' Harry said, after he managed to get Hedwig to stick her leg out and allow him to tie the letter to it. 'Before the Dementors do.'

She nipped his fingers, spread her wings and took off.

'So, what did the letter say?' asked Arabella.

'Nothing,' lied Harry.

'Bullshit,' said Arabella, calling him out on it. 'You told him not to come back because of your scar, didn't you?'

Harry shrugged. 'What did he write to you?'

'Told me not to worry about him, and that if anything else happened with your scar to take you straight to Dumbledore,' said Arabella.

Harry nodded. 'He can't come back because of me. He can't get caught.'

'Harry,' said Arabella, smiling, 'have I not been there for you?'

'No,' said Harry, puzzled by this question.

'The Blacks may have a terrible reputation in the wizarding community, but nobody can deny that we're not loyal,' said Arabella. 'Even if it's to the wrong type of people.' Thinking of Bellatrix and her loyalty to Voldemort.

'So, let me guess,' said Harry, smiling a bit, 'you wrote a letter to Sirius saying to not believe a word I said, right?'

Arabella raised her hands in surrender, 'Guilty.'

Harry snorted and shook his head. 'Come on, let's go. Breakfast time.'

* * *

'That was a lie, Harry,' said Hermione sharply after he told her and Ron what he had done. 'You didn't imagine your scar hurting and you know it.'

'So what?' said Harry. 'He's not going back to Azkaban because of me.'

'Drop it,' said Ron sharply to Hermione as she opened her mouth to argue some more, and for once, Hermione heeded him, and fell silent.

'He'll be careful,' said Arabella. 'He won't get caught. He's got too much to lose if he does.'

Over the next couple of week, Arabella notice Harry looking anxiously as the morning post owls arrived with no letter to neither of them. He honestly worried too much about things. Sirius knew what he was doing. He wouldn't do anything that would risk getting him back into Azkaban. Harry needed a distraction, something to get his mind off of Sirius. Thankfully, their lessons were becoming more difficult than ever before, particularly Mad-Eye's Defense Against the Dark Arts.

He announced that he would be putting the Imperius Curse on each of them in turn, to demonstrate its power and to see whether they could resist its effects.

'But – but you said it's illegal, Professor,' said Hermione uncertainly as Mad-Eye cleared away the desks with a sweep of his wand, leaving a large clear space in the middle of the room. 'You said – to use it against another human was –'

'Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like,' said Mad-Eye. 'If you's rather learn the hard way – when someone's putting it on you so that can control you completely – fine by me. You're excused. Off you go.' He pointed one finger towards the door. Hermione went very pink and muttered something about not meaning that she wanted to leave.

Mad-Eye began to beckon students forward in turn and put the Imperius Cure on them. One by one, they all did the most astonishing things under its influence. Dean hopped three times around the room, singing the national anthem. Lavender imitated a squirrel. Neville performed a series of amazing gymnastics he would not have been capable of doing if he was in his normal state. None of them seemed to be able to fight off the curse.

'Potter,' Mad-Eye growled, 'you next.'

Harry moved forward into the middle of the classroom, into the space Mad-Eye had cleared of desks. Mad-Eye raised his wand, pointed it at Harry, and said, 'Imperio!'

Mad-Eye kept pointing his wand at Harry, but nothing was happening. Harry seemed relaxed. He bent his knees, but did nothing.

'What's going on?' whispered Ron.

'He's fighting it,' whispered Arabella, watching Harry intently.

Next thing Arabella knew, Harry both jumped and tried to prevent himself from jumping, which made him smash into the desk, knocking it over.

'Now, that's more like it!' growled Mad-Eye. 'Look at that, you lot… Potter fought! He fought it, and he damn near beat it! Very good, Potter, very good indeed! They'll have trouble controlling you! Black! You're turn!'

Arabella stepped forward as Harry took her place in between Ron and Hermione. She stood in front of Mad-Eye's wand and braced herself for whatever he had prepared for her.

Mad-Eye raised his wand and, said, 'Imperio!'

Arabella was waiting for the force that was going to hit her, but nothing happened. She didn't feel anything. Mad-Eye kept pointing his wand at her in concentration, but nothing happened.

'Imperio!' he said again.

Nothing happened. The class broke out into a quiet whisper. This was getting a bit annoying. Arabella was standing there in front of Mad-Eye and the whole class, doing nothing. Thankfully, the bell rang and he dismissed them.

'Black,' growled Mad-Eye, 'a word.'

'I'll catch up with you later,' Arabella told Harry, Ron and Hermione, who all looked like they didn't like the idea of her being alone with him. She didn't like it either, but this was Mad-Eye. She's known him ever since she was three. She trusted him, even if he was acting a bit weird since he got to Hogwarts.

'We're going to try this again,' said Mad-Eye, pointing his wand at her.

'Sure,' said Arabella, shrugging a bit.

'Imperio!'

Nothing happened again.

'Interesting,' said Mad-Eye, putting his arm down. 'The curse has no effect on you.'

'Why is that?' asked Arabella, curious.

'Probably because of the Cruciatus Curse Bellatrix put on you when you were three,' said Mad-Eye. 'It probably made you immune to the Imperius Curse.'

'That makes no sense,' said Arabella.

'Have you been under the Cruciatus Curse since you were three?'

'Yeah,' said Arabella, thinking back to her first year.

'Did it hurt?'

'Not really,' said Arabella. 'I mostly just pretended so that Harry wouldn't get hurt. There was just a little sting, but nothing that hurt.'

Mad-Eye nodded with a slight frown on his face. 'You better get going for your next class. Don't want to be late.'

Arabella left the classroom as quickly as she could, not want to be late for Transfiguration and to get away from Mad-Eye. That was a very strange conversation. Mad-Eye would have explained to her what his theory on her was, with very explicate detail. Now, he seemed standoffish. He wasn't himself for some reason, and now this thing with her and the Imperius Curse. She honestly didn't care, but the way he asked her to stay after class to make sure, it was weird and got her worried a bit.

Arabella arrived to Transfiguration five minutes late and mumbled an apology before taking a seat next to Harry. Professor McGonagall gave her a sharp, disapproving look before taking five points away from Gryffindor and continuing on with the lesson.

'As I was saying, you are now entering the most important phase of your magical education! Your Ordinary Wizarding Levels are drawing closer –'

'We don't take O.W.L.s till fifth year!' said Dean.

'Maybe not Thomas, but believe me, you need all the preparations you can get! Miss Granger remains the only person in this class who has managed to turn a hedgehog into a satisfactory pincushion. I might remind you that your pincushion, Thomas, still curls up in fright if anyone approaches it with a pin!'

After Transfiguration was Divination, where Arabella, Harry and Ron were deeply amused when Professor Trelawney told them that they had received top marks for their homework. She had read out large portions of their predictions, but they were less amused when she asked them to do the same thing for the next month. The three of them were running out of ideas for catastrophes.

Meanwhile, Professor Binns had them writing weekly essays on the goblin rebellions of the eighteenth century. Professor Snape was forcing then to research antidotes. They took this one seriously as he hinted that he might b poisoning on of them before Christmas to see if their antidote worked. Professor Flitwick had asked them to read three extra books in preparation for their lesson on Summoning Charms.

Even Hagrid was adding to their workload. The Blast-Ended Skrewts were growing at a remarkable pace given that nobody had yet discovered what they ate. Hagrid was delighted, and as part of their project, suggested that they come down to his hut on alternative evenings to observe the skrewts and make notes on their behaviour.

'I will not,' said Malfoy when Hagrid proposed this. 'I see enough of these foul things during lessons, thanks.'

Hagrid's smile faded off his face.

'Yeh'll do wha' yer told,' he growled, 'or I'll be takin' a leaf outta Professor Moody's book…I hear yeh made a good ferret, Malfoy.'

The Gryffindors roared with laughter. Malfoy flushed with anger, but didn't retort. Arabella, Harry, Ron and Hermione returned to the castle at the end of the lesson in high spirits. When they arrived in the entrance hall, they were unable to move anymore due to the crowd of students around a sign at the front of the marble staircase. Ron stood on tiptoe to see over the heads in front of them and read the sign aloud to the other three:

TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT

THE DELEGATIONS FROM BEAUXBATONS AND DURMSTRANG WILL BE ARRIVING AT 6 O'CLOCK ON FRIDAY THE 30TH OF OCTOBER. LESSONS WILL END HALF AND HOUR EARLY –

'Brilliant!' said Harry. 'It's Potions last thing on Friday! Snape won't have time to poison us all!'

STUDNETS WILL RETURN THEIR BAGS AND BOOK TO THEIR DORMITORIES AND ASSEMBLE IN FRONT OF THE CASTLE TO GREET OUR GUESTS BEFORE THE WELCOMINIG FEAST.

'Only a week away!' said Ernie MacMillan, emerging from the crowd. 'I wonder if Cedric knows? Think I'll go and tell him…'

'Cedric?' said Ron blankly as Ernie hurried off.

'Diggory,' said Arabella. 'He must be entering the tournament.'

'That idiot, Hogwarts champion?' said Ron as they pushed their way through the crowd toward the staircase.

'He's not an idiot. You just don't like him because he beat Gryffindor at Quidditch,' said Hermione. 'I've heard he's a really good student – and he's a prefect.'

She spoke as though this settled the matter.

'You only like him because he's handsome,' said Ron.

'Excuse me, I don't like people just because they're handsome!' said Hermione.

Ron gave a loud false cough, which sounded oddly like 'Lockhart!'

* * *

When they arrived to breakfast on the morning of the October the thirtieth, they found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners with the Hogwarts houses hung on each of the walls. Behind the teacher's table, there was the largest banner of them all that bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H.

Arabella, Harry, Ron and Hermione sat down beside Fred and George at the Gryffindor table. Once again, they were sitting apart from everyone else and conversing in low voice. Ron led the way over to them.

'It's a bummer, all right,' George was saying gloomily to Fred. 'But if he won't talk to us in person, we'll have to send him the letter after all. Or we'll stuff it into his hand. He can't avoid us forever.'

'Who's avoiding you?' said Ron, sitting down next to them.

'Wish you would,' said Fred, looking irritated at the interruption.

'What's a bummer?' Ron asked George.

'Having a nosy git like you for a brother,' said George.

'You two got any ideas on the Triwizard Tournament yet?' Harry asked. 'Thought any more about trying to enter?'

'I asked McGonagall how the champions are chosen but she wasn't telling,' said George bitterly.

'She just told me to shut up and get on with transfiguring my raccoon.'

'Wonder what the tasks are going to be?' said Ron thoughtfully. 'You know, I bet we could do them. We've done dangerous stuff before…'

'Not in front of a panel of judges, you haven't,' said Fred. 'McGonagall says the champions get awarded points according to how well they've done the tasks.'

'Who are the judges?' asked Arabella.

'Well, the Heads of the participating schools are always on the panel,' said Hermione, and everyone looked around at her, rather surprised, 'because all three of them were injured during the Tournament of 1792, when a cockatrice the champions were supposed to be catching went on the rampage.'

She noticed them all looking at her and said, with her usual air of impatience that nobody else had read all the books she had, 'It's all in Hogwarts, A History. Though, of course, that book's not entirely reliable. A Revised History of Hogwarts would be a more accurate title. Or A Highly Biased and Selective History of Hogwarts, Which Glosses Over the Nastier Aspects of the School.'

'What are you on about?' said Ron.

'House-elves!' said Hermione, her eyes flashing. 'Not once, in over a thousand pages, does Hogwarts, A History mention that we are all colluding in the oppression of a hundred slaves!'

Arabella shook her head and help herself to a serving of bacon. Their lack of enthusiasm had done nothing whatsoever to curb Hermione's determination to pursue justice for house-elves.

True, the three of them had paid two Sickles for a S.P.E.W. badge, but they had only done it to keep her quiet. Their Sickles had been wasted, however; if anything, they seemed to have made Hermione more determined. She had been badgering Arabella, Harry and Ron ever since, first to wear the badges, then to persuade others to do the same, and she had also taken to rattling around the Gryffindor common room every evening, cornering people and shaking the collecting tin under their noses.

'You do realize that your sheets are changed, your fires lit, your classrooms cleaned, and your food cooked by a group of magical creatures who are unpaid and enslaved?' she kept saying fiercely.

Some people, like Neville, had paid up just to stop Hermione from glowering at them. A few seemed mildly interested in what she had to say, but were reluctant to take a more active role in campaigning. Many regarded the whole thing as a joke. Ron now rolled his eyes at the ceiling, which was flooding them all in autumn sunlight, and Fred became extremely interested in his bacon (both twins had refused to buy a S.P.E.W. badge). George, however, leaned in toward Hermione.

'Listen, have you ever been down in the kitchens, Hermione?'

'No, of course not,' said Hermione curtly, 'I hardly think students are supposed to -'

'Well, we have,' said George, indicating Fred, 'loads of times, to nick food. And we've met them, and they're happy. They think they've got the best job in the world -'

'That's because they're uneducated and brainwashed!' Hermione began hotly, but her next few words were drowned out by the sudden whooshing noise from overhead, which announced the arrival of the post owls. Arabella and Harry looked up and saw Shay and Hedwig soaring towards them. Hermione stopped talking abruptly.

Arabella and Harry pulled off Sirius's replies and offered their owls some bacon. Fred and George were immersed in further discussions about the Triwizard Tournament. Harry read his in a whisper:

_Nice try, Harry. Arabella warned me. _

_I'm back in the country and well hidden. I want you to keep me posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts. Don't use Hedwig and send two owls all the time. Don't worry about me, just watch out for yourself. Don't forget what I said about your scar. _

_Sirius_

'Read yours,' said Harry, folding his and tucking it in his pockets.

_Thanks for the heads up. _

_I'm back and well hidden. I've asked Harry to keep me posted if anything else happens, but he might not be as truthful in his letters, so write to me if something really bad happens. Tell the truth. Next time, use one owl to send me something, and keep switching them. I won't do anything stupid. I miss you too. _

_Sirius_

'Why do you have to keep changing owls?' Ron asked in a low voice.

'Shay and Hedwig'll draw too much attention,' said Hermione at once. 'They both stand out. A snowy owl and a grey one… they're not native birds, are they?'

There was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air that day. Nobody was very attentive on lessons, being more interested in the arrival that evening of the people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang; even Potions class was more bearable than usual, as it was half an hour shorter. When the bell rang early, Arabella, Harry, Ron and Hermione hurried up to Gryffindor Tower, put their bags away and rushed back downstairs into the entrance hall. The Heads of Houses were ordering their students into lines.

'Weasley, straighten your hat,' Professor McGonagall snapped at Ron. 'Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair.'

Parvati scowled and removed a large ornamental butterfly from the end of her plait.

'Follow me, please,' said Professor McGonagall. 'First years in front…no pushing…'

They filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle. Arabella, standing between Harry and Ron, saw the first years shivering with anticipation.

'Nearly six,' said Ron, checking his watch and then staring down the drive that led to the front gates. 'How d'you reckon they're coming? The train?'

'I doubt it,' said Hermione.

'How, then? Broomsticks?' Harry suggested, looking up at the starry sky.

'I don't think so…not from that far away…'

'A Portkey?' Ron suggested. 'Or they could Apparate - maybe you're allowed to do it under seventeen wherever they come from?'

'You can't Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds, how often do I have to tell you?' said Hermione impatiently.

'Maybe they're coming in a dragon,' said Arabella, smiling. 'Hagrid'll love that.'

'Aha! Unless I am very mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!' Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers.

'Where?' said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.

'There!' yelled a sixth year, pointing over the forest.

Something large, much larger than a broomstick - or, indeed, a hundred broomsticks - was hurtling across the deep blue sky toward the castle, growing larger all the time.

'It's a dragon!' shrieked one of the first years, losing her head completely.

'Don't be stupid…it's a flying house!' said Dennis Creevey.

Dennis's guess was closer…As the gigantic black shape skimmed over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest and the lights shining from the castle windows hit it, they saw a gigantic, powderblue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring toward them, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant.

The front three rows of students drew backward as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed - then, with an almighty crash that made Neville jump backward onto a Slytherin fifth year's foot, the horses' hooves, larger than dinner plates, hit the ground. A second later, the carriage landed too, bouncing upon its vast wheels, while the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes.

The door opened and a boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forward, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor, and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully. The largest woman Arabella had ever seen emerged from inside the carriage. She had a handsome, olive-skinned face with large black eyes. Her hair was drawn back in a shining knob at the base of her neck.

Dumbledore started to clap and the students followed in his lead. Many of the stood on their tiptoes to get a better look at the woman.

Her face relaxed into a gracious smile and she walked forward toward Dumbledore, extending her hand. Dumbledore, who was very tall himself, had barely bent to kiss it.

'My dear Madame Maxime,' he said. 'Welcome to Hogwarts.'

'Dumbly-dort,' said Madame Maxime in a deep voice. 'I 'ope I find you well?'

'In excellent form, I thank you,' said Dumbledore.

'My pupils,' said Madame Maxime, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her.

Arabella, whose attention was focused completely on Madam Maxime, only now noticed that about a dozen boys and girls had emerged from the carriage and was now standing behind Madam Maxime. They were shivering and looking at Hogwarts with an anxious look on their faces.

''As Karkaroff arrived yet?' Madame Maxime asked.

'He should be here any moment,' said Dumbledore. 'Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?'

'Warm up, I think,' said Madame Maxime. 'But ze 'orses -'

'Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them,' said Dumbledore, 'the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other - er - charges.'

'Skrewts,' Ron muttered, grinning.

'My steeds require - er - forceful 'andling,' said Madame Maxime, looking as though she doubted whether any Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Hogwarts could be up to the job. 'Zey are very strong…'

'I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job,' said Dumbledore, smiling.

'Very well,' said Madame Maxime, bowing slightly. 'Will you please inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?'

'It will be attended to,' said Dumbledore, also bowing.

'Come,' said Madame Maxime imperiously to her students, and the Hogwarts crowd parted to allow her and her students to pass up the stone steps.

'How big d'you reckon Durmstrang's horses are going to be?' said Seamus from beside Ron.

'Well, if they're any bigger than this lot, even Hagrid won't be able to handle them,' said Harry. 'That's if he hasn't been attacked by his skrewts. Wonder what's up with them?'

'Maybe they've escaped,' said Ron hopefully.

'Oh don't say that,' said Hermione with a shudder. 'Imagine that lot loose on the grounds…'

They stood, shivering slightly, waiting for the Durmstrang party to arrive. Most people were gazing at the sky.

For a few minutes, the silence was broken only by Madam Maxime's huge horses snorting and stamping. But then –

'Can you hear something?' Arabella asked suddenly.

There was a loud and oddly unnerving noise drifting towards them.

'The lake!' yelled Lee, pointing down at it. 'Look at the lake!'

From their positions at the top of the lawns overlooking the grounds, they had a very clear view of the smooth surface of the water – except that the surface was suddenly not smooth at all. Out in the middle of the lake, what seemed like a long, black pole began to rise slowly…

'Is that a boat?' asked Arabella, rubbing her eyes as though she didn't believe what she was seeing.

Slowly, a magnificent ship rose out of the water and began to glide towards the bank. They could see some people emerging from the ship, they all seemed to be very big, but if you look closely, it was mostly due to their shaggy cloaks with furs on them.

'Dumbledore!' called out the man that was leading the students. 'How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?'

'Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff,' Dumbledore replied. Karkaroff was tall and think like Dumbledore and had a goatee. When he reached Dumbledore, he shook hands with both of his own.

Arabella looked at the other students behind him. They were all bundled up in massive amounts of fur. They were all looking at either Hogwarts or the students. One of them caught Arabella's eye. He had a lean built with black hair that was pulled away from his face and dark eyes that Arabella couldn't tell if it was brown or black from where she was. He was pale with a long face and a straight pointed nose. He looked her straight in the eye, smirked and gave a small wave that she returned slyly. Arabella didn't notice the murderous look Harry was giving the boy, or the worried look Ron and Hermione exchanged with each other.

'Dear old Hogwarts,' said Professor Karkaroff in a loud voice, looking up at the castle and smiling. 'How good it is to be here, how good…Viktor, come along, into the warmth…you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold…'

Karkaroff beckoned forward one of his students. As the boy passed, Arabella caught a glimpse of his profile. She almost regretted standing beside Ron, as he punched her in the arm and hissed in her ear.

'It's Krum!'

**Thank you for reading!**


	13. The Goblet of Fire

**disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, just Arabella. Hope you like it!**

The Goblet of Fire

'I don't believe it!' Ron said, in a stunned voice, as the Hogwarts students filed back up the steps behind the party from Durmstrang. 'Krum! Victor Krum!'

'For heaven's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player,' said Hermione.

'Only a Quidditch player?' said Ron, looking at her as though he couldn't believe his ears. 'Hermione – he's only one of the best Seekers in the world! I have no idea he was still in school!'

Arabella understood where Ron was coming from. If she saw Troy from the Irish National Quidditch team, she would probably faint. As they recrossed the entrance hall and headed for the Great Hall with the rest of Hogwarts, Arabella saw Lee jumping up and down on the soles of his feet to get a better look at the back of Krum's head. Several sixth-years were frantically searching their pockets as they walked – 'Oh I don't believe it, I haven't got a single quill on me –'

'D'you think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?'

'Really,' said Hermione loftily as they passed the girls.

'I'm getting his autograph if I can,' said Ron. 'You haven't got a quill, have you, Harry?'

'Nope, they're upstairs in my bag,' said Harry.

'You can go ask them for their lipsticks,' said Arabella, smiling and pointing at the sixth-years.

'Piss off, Ara,' said Ron, giving her a friendly shove.

They walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down. Ron took care to sit on the side facing the doorway, because Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students were still gathered around it, apparently unsure about where they should sit. The student from Beauxbaton had chosen seats at the Ravenclaw table. Arabella was looking for the dark haired boy she saw outside. He seemed interesting.

'Over here! Come and sit over here!' Ron hissed. 'Over here! Hermione, budge up, make a space –'

'What?'

'Too late,' said Ron bitterly.

Victor Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students settled themselves at the Slytherin table. Arabella saw the dark haired boy look around the Great Hall before finding Arabella. He gave her another smirk before sitting beside Krum.

'He's interesting, isn't he?' asked Arabella, watching the boy. He wasn't particularly handsome, but there was something eye-catching about him.

'I guess,' said Hermione, not sure what to say as Harry was alternating between glaring at her and the dark haired boy.

When all the students had entered the Hall and settled down at their House tables, the staff entered, filing up to the top table and taking their seats. Professor Karkaroff sat down on Dumbledore's right side as Madame Maxime sat on his left. Dumbledore was the only one that remained standing, and silence fell over the Great Hall.

'Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and - most particularly - guests,' said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. 'I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable.'

One of the Beauxbatons girls still clutching a muffler around her head gave what was unmistakably a derisive laugh.

'No one's making you stay!' Hermione whispered, bristling at her.

'The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast,' said Dumbledore. 'I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!'

He sat down and Arabella saw Karkaroff lean forward at once and engage him in a conversation.

The plates in front of them filled with food as usual. There was a greater variety of dishes in front of than Arabella had ever seen, including several that were definitely foreign.

'What's that?' said Ron, pointing at a large dish of some sort of shellfish stew.

'Bouillabaisse,' said Hermione.

'Bless you,' said Ron.

'It's French,' said Hermione, 'I had it on holiday summer before last. It's very nice.'

'I'll take your word for it,' said Ron, helping himself to black pudding.

The Great Hall seemed somehow much more crowded than usual, even though there were barely twenty additional students there.

Hagrid sidled into the Hall through a door behind the staff table twenty minutes after the start of the feast. He slid into his seat at the end and waved at Arabella, Harry, Ron, and Hermione with a very heavily bandaged hand.

'Skrewts doing all right, Hagrid?' Harry called.

'Thrivin',' Hagrid called back happily.

'Yeah, I'll just bet they are,' said Ron quietly. 'Looks like they've finally found a food they like, doesn't it? Hagrid's fingers.'

At that moment, a voice said, 'Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?' it was the girl from Beauxbaton who had laughed during Dumbledore's speech. She had long slivery-blond hair that fell to her waist and large, deep blue eyes.

Ron went purple. He stared at her, opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out except a faint gurgling noise.

'Yeah, have it,' said Arabella, pushing the dish toward the girl.

'You 'ave finished wiz it?'

'Yeah,' Ron said breathlessly. 'Yeah, it was excellent.'

The girl picked up the dish and carried it carefully off to the Ravenclaw table. Ron was still goggling at the girl as though he had never seen one before. Arabella and Harry started to laugh. The sound seemed to jog Ron back to his senses.

'She's a veela!' he said hoarsely.

'Of course she isn't!' said Hermione sharply. 'I don't see anyone else gaping at her like an idiot!'

'Are you sure about that, Hermione?' asked Arabella.

As the girl crossed the Hall, many boys' heads turned, and some of them seemed to have become temporarily speechless, just like Ron.

'I'm telling you, that's not a normal girl!' said Ron, leaning sideways so he could keep a clear view of her. 'They don't make them like that at Hogwarts!'

'They make them okay at Hogwarts,' said Harry, sneaking a glance at Arabella, who was looking at the dark haired boy. He felt some sort of lion growl in his chest at that sight. He stabbed the food in front of his with his fork.

'When the three of you have out your eyes back in,' said Hermione briskly, 'you'll be able to see who's just arrived.'

She was pointing at the staff table. Ludo Bagman was sitting on Professor Karkaroff's other side, while Mr Crouch was next to Madame Maxime.

'What are they doing here?' said Harry in surprise.

'They organized the Triwizard Tournament, didn't they?' said Hermione. 'I suppose they wanted to be here to see it start.'

Once the golden plate had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall now. Arabella felt a slight thrill of excitement, wondering what was coming.

'The moment has come,' said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. 'The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket —'

'The what?' Harry muttered.

Arabella and Ron shrugged.

'— just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation' - there was a smattering of polite applause - 'and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports.'

There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a Beater, or simply because he looked so much more likable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced.

'Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament,' Dumbledore continued, 'and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts.'

At the mention of the word 'champions,' the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen. Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, 'The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch.'

Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students.

'The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman,' said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, 'and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways…their magical prowess - their daring - their powers of deduction - and, of course, their ability to cope with danger.'

At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing.

'As you know, three champions compete in the tournament,' Dumbledore went on calmly, 'one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire.'

Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames. Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall. Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet,' said Dumbledore. 'Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete. To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line. Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all.'

'An Age Line!' Fred said, his eyes glinting, as they all made their way across the Hall to the doors into the entrance hall. 'Well, that should be fooled by an Aging Potion, shouldn't it? And once your name's in that goblet, you're laughing - it can't tell whether you're seventeen or not!'

'But I don't think anyone under seventeen will stand a chance,' said Hermione, 'we just haven't learned enough…'

'Speak for yourself,' said George shortly. 'You'll try and get in, won't you, Harry?'

'Where is he?' said Ron, who wasn't listening to a word of this conversation, but looking through the crowd to see what had become of Krum. 'Dumbledore didn't say where the Durmstrang people are sleeping, did he?'

But this query was answered almost instantly; they were level with the Slytherin table now, and Karkaroff had just bustled up to his students.

'Back to the ship, then,' he was saying. 'Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?'

Arabella saw Krum shake his head as he pulled his furs back on. 'Professor, I vood like some vine,' said one of the other Durmstrang boys hopefully.

'I wasn't offering it to you, Poliakoff,' snapped Karkaroff, his warmly paternal air vanishing in an instant. 'I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy -'

Karkaroff turned and led his students toward the doors, reaching them at exactly the same moment as Harry, Arabella, Ron, and Hermione. Harry stopped to let him walk through first.

'Thank you,' said Karkaroff carelessly, glancing at him. And then Karkaroff froze. He turned his head back to Harry and stared at him as though he couldn't believe his eyes. Behind their headmaster, the students from Durmstrang came to a halt too. Karkaroff's eyes moved slowly up Harry's face and fixed upon his scar.

The Durmstrang students were staring curiously at Harry too. Arabella noticed the dark haired boy looking quite bored with what was going on. He was being nudged by the boy with food all down his front and pointed at Harry with his finger.

'Yeah, that's Harry Potter,' said a growling voice from behind them.

Professor Karkaroff spun around. Mad-Eye was standing there, leaning heavily on his staff, his magical eye glaring unblinkingly at the Durmstrang headmaster.

The color drained from Karkaroff's face as Arabella watched. A terrible look of fury and fear came over him.

'You!' he said, staring at Mad-Eye as though unsure he was really seeing him.

'Me,' said Mad-Eye grimly. 'And unless you've got something to say to Potter, Karkaroff, you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway.'

It was true. Half the students in the Hall were now waiting behind them, looking over one another's shoulders to see what was causing the holdup.

Without another word, Karkaroff swept his students away with him. Arabella caught the dark haired boy again and he gave her a wink this time. Mad-Eye watched them until they were out of his sight with a look of intense dislike on his face.

Just as Arabella, Harry, Ron and Hermione were about to leave for Gryffindor Tower, Mad-Eye pulled Arabella aside.

'Keep an eye out for Karkaroff,' he growled. 'If he does anything suspicious around you or Potter, come straight to me.'

'Why?' asked Arabella.

'Just do it,' said Mad-Eye, letting go of her and walking away.

'What the hell was that?' whispered Arabella was she walked by herself up the marble staircase. She was more shocked in his behaviour than his request. He always told her to be careful and to always look over her shoulder when she's not at home. He also always gave her a good explanation for his suspicions if there was something to worry about. Something strange was going on.

* * *

As the next day was Saturday, most students would normally have breakfasted late. Arabella, Harry, Ron and Hermione, however, were not alone in rising much earlier than they usually did on weekends. When they went down into the entrance hall, they saw about twenty people milling around it, some of them eating toast, all examining the Goblet of Fire. It had been placed in the centre of the hall on the stool that normally bore the Sorting hat. A think golden line had been traced on the floor, forming a circle ten feet around it on every direction.

'Anyone put their name in yet?' Ron asked a third-year girl eagerly.

'All the Durmstrang lot,' she replied. 'But I haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts yet.'

'Bet some of them put it in last night after we'd all gone to bed,' said Harry. 'I would've if it had been me…wouldn't have wanted everyone watching. What if the goblet just gobbed you right back out again?'

Someone laughed behind Arabella. Turning around, she saw Fred, George and Lee hurrying down the staircase, all three of them looking extremely excited.

'Done it,' Fred said in a triumphant whisper to Arabella, Harry, Ron and Hermione. 'Just taken it.'

'What?' said Ron.

'The Aging Potion, dung brains,' said Fred.

'One drop each,' said George, rubbing his hands together with glee. 'We only need to be a few months older.'

'We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins,' said Lee, grinning broadly.

'I'm not sure this is going to work, you know,' said Hermione warningly. 'I'm sure Dumbledore will have thought of this.'

Fred, George, and Lee ignored her.

'Ready?' Fred said to the other two, quivering with excitement. 'C'mon, then - I'll go first -'

'This ought to be interesting,' said Arabella, who watch as Fred pulled a slip of parchment out of his pocket bearing his names and Hogwarts on it. Fred walked right up to the edge of the line and stood there, rocking on his toes like a diver preparing for a fifty-foot drop. Then, with the eyes of every person in the entrance hall upon him, he took a great breath and stepped over the line.

For a split second Arabella thought it had worked, apparently, so did George as he let out a yell of triumph and leapt after Fred – but next moment, there was a loud sizzling sound, and both twins were hurled out of the golden circle as though they had been thrown by an invisible shot-putter. They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor, and both of them sprouted identical long white beards.

The entrance hall rang with laughter. Even Fred and George joined in, once they had gotten to their feet and taken a good look at each other's beards.

I did warn you,' said a deep, amused voice, and everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall. He surveyed Fred and George, his eyes twinkling. 'I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours.'

Fred and George set off for the hospital wing, accompanied by Lee, who was howling with laughter. Arabella, Harry, Ron and Hermione went in to breakfast and sat down beside Dean and Seamus, who were discussing those Hogwarts students of seventeen or over who might be entering.

'There's a rumor going around that Warrington got up early and put his name in,' Dean told them. 'That big bloke from Slytherin who looks like a sloth.'

'We can't have a Slytherin champion!' said Arabella, shaking her head.

'And all the Hufflepuffs are talking about Diggory,' said Seamus.

'But I wouldn't have thought he'd have wanted to risk his good looks,' said Harry.

'Listen!' said Hermione suddenly.

People were cheering out in the entrance hall. They all swiveled around in their seats and saw Angelina Johnson coming into the Hall, grinning in an embarrassed sort of way. She came over to them, sat down, and said, 'Well, I've just done it! Just put my name in!'

'You're kidding!' said Ron, looking impressed.

'Are you seventeen, then?' asked Harry.

'Course she is, can't see a beard, can you?' said Ron.

'I had my birthday last week,' said Angelina.

'Well, I'm glad someone from Gryffindor's entering,' said Hermione. 'I really hope you get it, Angelina!'

'Good luck!' said Arabella, smiling at her old Quidditch team mate.

'Thanks,' said Angelina, smiling at them.

'Yeah, better you than Pretty-Boy Diggory,' said Seamus, causing several Hufflepuffs passing their table to scowl heavily at him.

'What're we going to do today, then?' Ron asked Arabella, Harry and Hermione when they had finished breakfast and were leaving the Great Hall.

'We haven't been down to visit Hagrid yet,' said Harry.

'Okay,' said Ron, 'just as long as he doesn't ask us to donate a few fingers to the skrewts.'

A look of great excitement suddenly dawned on Hermione's face.

'I've just realized - I haven't asked Hagrid to join S.P.E.W. yet!' she said brightly. 'Wait for me, will you, while I nip upstairs and get the badges?'

'What is it with her?' said Ron, exasperated, as Hermione ran away up the marble staircase.

'Hey, Arabella, it's your friend…' said Seamus, pointing towards the front doors.

Arabella turned around to see the dark haired student from Durmstrang. He was walking with two other students through the front doors. Those who were already gathered around the Goblet of Fire stood back to let them pass, watched eagerly. The two other students stood back as the dark haired one stepped forward, passed the Age Line and dropped his slip of parchment into the blue-white flames with a bored expression on his face. He stepped out of the line as the spectators around him continued on with their conversations before they came.

He looked around and spotted Arabella. He gave a small smirk and walked up to her. The talking around them seemed to have quietened down again as everybody was watching his every move. He stood in front of her with his hands behind his back. Now that he was in front of her, she got a really good look at him. He was dressed all in black. His hair was a glossy black colour that was in curls that seemed to fall on his face gracefully. His eyes were a very dark colour that she could tell whether or not it was brown or black. He seemed to be taller than Ron, which made him taller than Arabella.

'Hello,' he said. Arabella was surprised by his lack of accent. Karkaroff had one and so did one of his students. 'I'm Nikola Stefanov. And you are?'

'Arabella Black,' she said, blushing as he was glazing intently at her and embarrassed that everyone was looking at them.

'It's very nice to meet you,' he said, taking her hand into his very slowly and kissing the back of it. 'I hope to see you again.'

And with a last smirk and a swift turn, he and the two other Durmstrang students went out of the front doors. The crowd around them went back to whispering amongst themselves. Arabella was watching as Nikola left the entrance hall. He was certainly interesting. _He would be more handsome if he smiled rather than just smirk_ she thought. As her eyes were fixed on the front door, she didn't see the glare on Harry's face, or the look of discomfort on Ron watching the two of them. She also didn't see the three galleons passed between Dean to Seamus.

A loud rattling noise broke Arabella from her trance as Hermione reappeared with the box of S.P.E.W. badges.

'What wrong with you three?' she asked, looking at all their face.

'Nothing,' said Harry shortly. 'Let's go.'

Harry stomped off with Ron beside him as Hermione walked with Arabella.

'What happened? I was barely gone for five minutes,' whispered Hermione to Arabella so that Harry couldn't hear her.

'You know the guy I thought was interesting? Black hair, tall, from Durmstrang?' Hermione nodded. 'Yeah, well, he came up to me, introduced himself and kissed the back of my hand.'

'Oh,' all Hermione had to say as they arrived in front of Hagrid's hut and Harry knocked on the door.

'Bout time!' said Hagrid, when he'd flung open the door. 'Thought you lot'd forgotten where I live!'

'We've been really busy, Hag -' Hermione started to say, but then she stopped dead, looking up at Hagrid, apparently lost for words.

Hagrid was wearing a hairy brown suit with a checked yellow-and-orange tie. He tried to tame his hair, using large quantities of what seemed to be axle grease. The look really didn't suit Hagrid at all. For a moment, Hermione goggled at him, obviously deciding not to comment, she said, 'Erm – where are the skrewts?'

'Out by the pumpkin patch,' said Hagrid happily. 'They're get-tin' massive, mus' be nearly three foot long now. On'y trouble is, they've started killin' each other.'

'Oh no, really?' said Hermione, shooting a repressive look at Ron, who, staring at Hagrid's odd hairstyle, had just opened his mouth to say something about it.

'Yeah,' said Hagrid sadly. 'S' okay, though, I've got 'em in separate boxes now. Still got abou' twenty.'

'Well, that's lucky,' said Ron. Hagrid missed the sarcasm.

They entered the hut and Hagrid started to make tea. They were soon immersed in yet more discussion of the Triwizard Tournament. Hagrid seemed quite as excited about it as they were.

'You wait,' he said, grinning. 'You jus' wait. Yer going ter see some stuff yeh've never seen before. Firs' task…ah, but I'm not supposed ter say.'

'Go on, Hagrid!' Arabella, Harry, Ron, and Hermione urged him, but he just shook his head, grinning.

'I don' want ter spoil it fer yeh,' said Hagrid. 'But it's gonna be spectacular, I'll tell yeh that. Them champions're going ter have their work cut out. Never thought I'd live ter see the Triwizard Tournament played again!'

They ended up having lunch with Hagrid, thought they didn't eat much. However, they enjoyed themselves trying to make Hagrid tell them what the tasks in the tournament were going to be, speculating which of the entrants were likely to be selected as champions, and wondering whether or not Fred and George were beardless yet. A light rain had started to fall by midafternoon; it was very cozy sitting by the fire, listening to the gentle patter of the drops on the window, watching Hagrid darning his socks and arguing with Hermione about house-elves - for he flatly refused to join S.P.E.W. when she showed him her badges.

'It'd be doin' 'em an unkindness, Hermione,' he said gravely, threading a massive bone needle with thick yellow yarn. 'It's in their nature ter look after humans, that's what they like, see? Yeh'd be makin' 'em unhappy ter take away their work, an' insutin' 'em if yeh tried ter pay 'em.'

'But Harry set Dobby free, and he was over the moon about it!' said Hermione. 'And we heard he's asking for wages now!'

'Yeah, well, yeh get weirdos in every breed. I'm not sayin' there isn't the odd elf who'd take freedom, but yeh'll never persuade most of 'em ter do it - no, nothin' doin', Hermione.'

Hermione looked very cross indeed and stuffed her box of badges back into her cloak pocket.

By half past five it was growing dark, and Arabella, Ron, Harry, and Hermione decided it was time to get back up to the castle for the Halloween feast - and, more important, the announcement of the school champions.

'I'll come with yeh,' said Hagrid, putting away his darning. 'Jus' give us a sec.'

Hagrid got up, went across to the chest of drawers beside his bed, and began searching for something inside it. They didn't pay too much attention until a truly horrible smell reached their nostrils.

'Hagrid, what's that smell?' asked Arabella, coughing.

'Eh?' said Hagrid, turning around with a large bottle in his hand. 'Don' yeh like it?'

'Is that aftershave?' said Hermione in a slightly choked voice.

'Er - eau de cologne,' Hagrid muttered. He was blushing. 'Maybe it's a bit much,' he said gruffly. 'I'll go take it off, hang on…'

He stumped out of the cabin, and they saw him washing himself vigorously in the water barrel outside the window.

'Eau de cologne?' said Hermione in amazement. 'Hagrid?'

'And what's with the hair and the suit?' said Harry in an undertone.

'Look!' said Ron suddenly, pointing out of the window. Hagrid had just straightened up and turned 'round. If he had been blushing before, it was nothing to what he was doing now. Getting to their feet very cautiously, so that Hagrid wouldn't spot them, Arabella, Harry, Ron, and Hermione peered through the window and saw that Madame Maxime and the Beauxbatons students had just emerged from their carriage, clearly about to set off for the feast too. They couldn't hear what Hagrid was saying, but he was talking to Madame Maxime with a rapt, misty-eyed expression Arabella had only ever seen him wear once before - when he had been looking at the baby dragon, Norbert.

'He's going up to the castle with her!' said Hermione indignantly. 'I thought he was waiting for us!'

'Hagrid fancies her!' said Arabella, watching them leave with wide eyes.

'Well, if they end up having kids, they'll be setting a world record – bet any baby of their would weigh about a ton,' said Ron.

They let themselves out of the cabin and shut the door behind them. It was surprisingly dark outside. Drawing their cloaks more closely around themselves, they set off up the sloping lawns.

'Ooh it's them, look!' Hermione whispered.

The Durmstrang party was walking up toward the castle from the lake. Krum was walking side by side with Karkaroff, as Nikola was walking beside Krum with a bored expression on his face. Ron watched Krum excitedly as Arabella was gazing intently at Nikola. He seemed to have sensed her or something as he turned around to give her a smirk and a small wink. Once again, Arabella didn't notice the glare Harry was sending his way or the worried expression on Hermione's face.

When they entered the Great Hall it was almost full. The Goblet of Fire had been moved. It was now standing in front of Dumbledore's empty chair at the teacher's table. Fred and George seemed to have taken their disappointment fairly well.

'Hope it's Angelina,' said Fred as Arabella, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down.

'So do I!' said Hermione breathlessly. 'Well, we'll soon know!'

'We need to have a little talk,' said George to Arabella as the Halloween feast started.

'About what?' asked Arabella, eating some lamb chops.

'We have heard that a certain Durmstrang student has caught your eye,' said Fred.

'Where did you hear that?' asked Arabella, blushing slightly.

'Word travels fast,' said George. 'But that's not the point.'

'What about Harry?' asked Hermione as she was listening to this conversation as Harry and Ron were talking to Dean and Seamus.

'There's nothing going on between the two of us,' Arabella said bitterly. 'He said that we were just friends. And what's wrong with me being friends with Nikola?'

'Nothing's wrong,' said George.

'Doubt he's looking for more than friendship,' said Fred.

Arabella glared at them before returning to her food and ignoring them for the rest of the feast. At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state.

'Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision,' said Dumbledore, getting to his feet. 'I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber' - he indicated the door behind the staff table - 'where they will be receiving their first instructions.'

He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting…A few people kept checking their watches…

'Any second,' lee whispered, couple seats away from Arabella.

The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it - the whole room gasped.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.

'The champion for Durmstrang,' he read, in a strong, clear voice, 'will be Viktor Krum.'

'No surprises there!' yelled Ron as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Arabella saw Krum rise from the Slytherin table and slouched up toward Dumbledore. Arabella saw Nikola with an actual genuine smile on his face as he watched Krum turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber. _He does look handsome with that smile on _she thought.

'Bravo, Viktor!' boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. 'Knew you had it in you!'

The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.

'The champion for Beauxbatons,' said Dumbledore, 'is Fleur Delacour!'

'It's her, Ron!' Harry shouted as the girl who so resembled a veela got gracefully to her feet, shook back her sheet of silvery blonde hair, and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

'Oh look, they're all disappointed,' Hermione said over the noise, nodding toward the remainder of the Beauxbatons party. 'Disappointed' was a bit of an understatement. Two of the girls who had not been selected had dissolved into tears and were sobbing with their heads on their arms.

When Fleur Delacour too had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion next…

And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.

'The Hogwarts champion,' he called, 'is Cedric Diggory!'

Arabella was pretty sure she heard Ron say something, but there was uproar from the next table. Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off toward the chamber behind the teachers' table. Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.

'Excellent!' Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. 'Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real —'

But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.

The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.

Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out - 'Harry Potter.'

**Thank you for reading!**


	14. The Four Champions

The Four Champions

Everyone was looking at Harry, who was sitting down on his seat stunned beyond belief. There was no applause, but an angry buzz was starting to fill the Hall. Up at the top table, Professor McGonagall had got to her feet and swept past Bagman and Karkaroff to whisper urgently to Dumbledore, who was frowning slightly. The whole of Gryffindor table was watching Harry with their mouths open.

Arabella got up and urged Harry to do the same.

'I didn't put my name in,' Harry said blankly. 'You know I didn't.'

'I know,' said Arabella, trying to push him up. 'But you have to go. They're waiting for you.'

At the top of the table, Dumbledore straightened up and nodded to Professor McGonagall.

'Harry Potter!' he called again. 'Harry! Up here, if you please!'

'Go,' urged Arabella, finally getting him out of his seat and gave him a big push.

Harry walked to the top table as hundreds of eyes were upon him. The buzzing got louder and louder. When he finally reached Dumbledore, he said something and motioned for Harry to walk through the doors on his right.

After Harry had left the Great Hall, Dumbledore whispered something to Professor McGonagall motioned for Karkaroff and Madam Maxime to follow him. Bagman and Crouch were hot on their trial.

'Students are to return to their common rooms,' called out Professor McGonagall. 'You can start on your celebrations there.'

There was a rush as everybody got up and walked out of the Great Hall. Arabella was walking with Hermione and Ron, who was really quiet and gazing into space.

'Ron,' said Arabella, 'are you okay?'

'What?' said Ron, snapping out of his gaze. 'Yes, I'm fine.'

'You know he didn't enter himself in, right?'

Ron nodded absentmindedly, but Arabella wasn't sure if he was listening or not. There was something strange about the way he was acting. He was smiling, but it was more like a grimace, which didn't suit him at all.

They reached the common room and Ron went up to his dormitory as everybody started to celebrate. Arabella and Hermione went up to their dormitory to get away from the noise.

'He didn't put his name in,' said Arabella as soon as they entered the room.

'I know,' said Hermione, 'but who did?'

'Mad-Eye told me to keep a look out for Karkaroff,' said Arabella, remembering the strange encounter with him. 'There's something strange about him?'

'But why would he put Harry's name in the Goblet?' asked Hermione. 'It makes no sense.'

'I know,' said Arabella in defeat. 'Can you do me a favour? I'm going to go talk to Harry tomorrow; can you look after Ron or something? He's acting strange.'

'He's jealous,' said Hermione at once. 'Harry always gets the attention while Ron gets pushed to the side. And he also has all his brothers to compete with. I'll make sure he's okay. Talk to Harry tomorrow and write a letter to Sirius. He'll want to know.'

Arabella nodded as they both changed and went to bed.

* * *

Arabella got up earlier than her other roommates. She changed quickly and grabbed some parchment, quill, some ink and made her way towards the Great Hall. There weren't many people there and about two people that she didn't know sitting at the Gryffindor Table. She quietly took her seat and ate her breakfast.

'Is this seat taken?' asked a voice that she thought she recognized.

Arabella looked up and saw that it as Nikola. He was giving her a little smile that suited his face instead of his usual smirk. He was again dressed on black and his hair looked a bit wet. He was pointing to the seat across from her.

'No, go ahead,' said Arabella, slightly blushing.

He sat down gracefully and put some bacon and eggs on his plate.

'So, tell me about yourself Arabella Black,' said Nikola, his smile now forming into a smirk.

'Um… nothing much to tell. I'm not very interesting,' spluttered Arabella.

'I find you very interesting,' said Nikola. 'And I'm sure your boyfriend does too.'

'No boyfriend,' said Arabella, thinking of Harry.

'Really?' asked Nikola, raising his right eyebrow. 'What about the tall red head?'

'Ron? He's not my boyfriend, he's practically my brother,' said Arabella.

'And the boy with the messy black hair and the scar on his forehead? Harry Potter, isn't it?'

'Harry's not my boyfriend,' said Arabella, trying to keep the bitter tone out of her voice.

Nikola's smirk grew broader.

'Tell me about yourself,' said Arabella, quickly.

'What do you wish to know?' asked Nikola.

'Why don't you have an accent like the rest of your friends?' asked Arabella.

'I'm half Bulgarian, half English,' said Nikola. 'During summer, I spend my time in Gloucester. I go to Durmstrang because that's where my father and his father went. It's a family legacy,' said Nikola, quite bored.

'Are you friends with Krum?' asked Arabella, remembering that they walked beside each other when they entered Hogwarts the night before.

'I am,' said Nikola, a genuine smile on his face. 'I've known his since we started together in Durmstrang. He's a really good person, and an amazing Quidditch player.'

'Nikola!'

They looked over and Arabella saw one of the Durmstrang students waving him over. Nikola sighed before turning back to Arabella.

'I'm sorry I have to cut this date short,' said Nikola.

'Date? You call this a date?' said Arabella with a disbelief look on her face.

'Well, no,' said Nikola with a chuckle. 'I'll take you out on a proper date soon. That is, if you want me to?'

'We'll see,' said Arabella. Nikola smirk before reaching out for her hand and kissing the back of it. He lingered a bit before getting up and walking towards his friends.

'What the hell was that about?' asked Seamus as he was sitting with Dean, Fred and George. She didn't notice them come in and sit down until now.

'What are you talking about?' asked Arabella.

'You, him,' said Dean, pointing at Arabella and the doors to the Great Hall. 'It's not right,' he said shaking his head.

'There's nothing wrong with me and Nikola hanging out,' said Arabella hotly.

'Yes there is,' said George.

'Don't you remember the bet we have with Ron? He said fifth year, I say sixth year, George said sometime between fourth and fifth year. We bet one galleon on this,' said Fred. 'We can't lose.'

'I also have a bet with Bill and Charlie,' said George. 'Bill said sixth year, Charlie said fifth. I can't lose five galleons.'

'I have one going on with Ernie from Hufflepuff and Terry from Ravenclaw,' said Dean. 'I said by the end of this year. Ernie said that Harry doesn't have the guts to ever ask you out while Terry said fifth year. I can't lose to a Hufflepuff and a Ravenclaw!'

'Me, Ron and Neville's got one, too,' said Seamus.

'Neville?' said Arabella, shocked. 'Neville's in this also?'

'Yeah, he said sometime in our sixth year, I said this year,' said Seamus. 'If you go out with Nikola, then all our money and observations of the two of you go to waste. Three years down the drain.'

'And I know for sure I heard Dumbledore, McGonagall, Sprout and Flitwick wagering a bet, too,' said George. 'Your right eye's twitching.'

She didn't notice it until George mentioned it, but Arabella's right eye was indeed twitching. She was caught between amusement and annoyance, mostly annoyance. She knew that Fred, George and Ron had a bet with each other, but not the others. She didn't expect Neville, the teachers or any or the other students to be involved.

'Well, you can call it all off,' snapped Arabella. 'None of it's going to happen. You've wasted your time. I have to go.'

She got up abruptly, got some toast and napkins and walked out of the Great Hall, where she waited for Harry.

Arabella waited for about five minutes before she spotted Harry walking towards her.

'Hello,' said Arabella. 'Want to go for a walk?'

Harry looked at the food in her hands and smiled gratefully at her.

'Good idea,' he said.

They walked outside towards the lake, where the Durmstrang ship was anchored. It was a chilly morning as they kept moving and munched on the toast. Harry told Arabella exactly what happened after he left the Gryffindor table the night before.

'I believe you,' said Arabella. 'The thing is who did put your name in? No student could have done it.'

'Have you see Ron?' Harry interrupted.

'I didn't see him at breakfast,' said Arabella, shaking his head.

'Does he think I entered myself in? After you guys left the Great Hall?'

'I don't know… maybe… not really,' said Arabella awkwardly.

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Oh Harry, open your eyes,' said Arabella hopelessly. 'He's jealous!'

'Jealous?' Harry said incredulously. 'Jealous of what? He wants to make a prat of himself in front of the whole school, does he?'

'Look,' said Arabella, remembering what Hermione told her last night, 'it's always you who gets all the attention. Don't give me that look, you know it's true. Remember what he said on the train the first time we all met? He's got five brothers to compete with, and most of his stuffs are hand-me-downs. Nobody expects him to do good because they've all done it before. Every time someone recognizes you, he always shunned to the side, and he puts up with it, he never mentions it, but this is one time too many…'

'Great,' said Harry bitterly. 'Really great. Tell him from me I'll swap any time he wants. Tell him from me he's welcome to it… People gawping at my forehead everywhere I go…'

'Tell him yourself,' said Arabella shortly. 'It's the only way to sort this out.'

'I'm not running around after him trying to make him grow up!' Harry said loudly. 'Maybe he'll believe I'm not enjoying myself once I've got my neck broken or –'

'Shut up!' yelled Arabella. 'It's not funny,' she said in a much more quiet voice. 'You have to write to Padfoot, tell him what's going on. He'll want to know about this. Better to hear it from you rather that the Daily Prophet.'

'Come off it,' said Harry, looking around to check that they couldn't be overheard, but the grounds were deserted. 'He came back to the country just because my scar twinged. He'll probably come bursting right into the castle if I tell him someone's entered me in the Triwizard Tournament –'

'Either you tell him or I will,' said Arabella firmly.

'Fine,' said Harry reluctantly. 'I'll write to him.'

They walked back to the castle towards the Owlery.

'Whose owl am I going to use?' Harry said as they entered the Owlery. 'He told me not to use Hedwig again and I can't use Shay.'

'Ask Ron if you can –'

'I'm not asking Ron for anything,' Harry said flatly.

'Fine,' said Arabella, irritated. 'Borrow one of the school owls then.'

Arabella took out her pieces of parchment, quill, and a bottle of ink. They sat down against the wall and wrote their letters to Sirius. Harry wrote:

_Dear Sirius, _

_You told me to keep you posted on what's happening at Hogwarts, so here goes – I don't know if you've heard, but the Triwizard Tournament's happening this year and on Saturday night I got picked as a fourth champion. I don't who put my name in the Goblet of Fire, because I didn't. The other Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory, from Hufflepuff. Arabella might have a boyfriend from Durmstrang. Hope you're okay, and Buckbeak –_

_Harry_

On a separate piece of paper Arabella wrote:

_Dad_

_Hopefully Harry told you the truth. There's this competition going on between Hogwarts, Beauxbaton and Durmstrang called the Triwizard Tournament. One champion is chosen from each school, but, unfortunately, Hogwarts has two, one of them being Harry. Nobody knows who did it though. Mad-Eye told me to keep an eye out for Professor Karkaroff, he's the headmaster at Durmstrang. Creepy fellow. I was wondering if you knew why. Hope you safe and well hidden. Miss you. _

_Arabella. _

She copied the letter on another piece of paper for Remus.

'Finished?' asked Harry, watching her.

Arabella gave him the letter for Sirius, while she went to Shay with her letter for Remus.

'First Ron, then you,' Harry said angrily at Hedwig as she moved away from him. 'This isn't my fault.'

* * *

Things for Harry didn't improve anytime soon. The rest of the school, including the Gryffindors, thought he entered himself in the tournament. However, unlike the Gryffindors, they weren't impressed. The Hufflepuffs turned cold towards of all them, even Professor Spout seemed distant with him. The Ravenclaws were rallying behind Cedric, they thought Harry tricked the goblet into accepting his name.

When they arrived at Snape's dungeon after lunch, they found the Slytherins waiting outside, each and every one of them wearing a large badge on the front of their robes, baring the same message in red letters: SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY – THE REAL HOGWARTS CHAMPION!

'Like them, Potter?' said Malfoy loudly as Harry approached. 'And this isn't all they do - look!'

He pressed his badge into his chest, and the message upon it vanished, to be replaced by another one, which glowed green: POTTER STINKS!

The Slytherins howled with laughter. Each of them pressed their badges too, until the message POTTER STINKS was shining brightly all around Harry. He felt the heat rise in his face and neck.

'Shut up,' snapped Arabella at Pansy Parkinson's laugh squeaky laugh.

'Oh very funny,' said Hermione, 'really witty.'

Ron was standing against the wall with Dean and Seamus. He wasn't laughing, but he wasn't sticking up for Harry either.

'Want one, Granger?' said Malfoy, holding out a badge to Hermione. 'I've got loads. But don't touch my hand, now. I've just washed it, you see; don't want a Mudblood sliming it up.'

Some of the anger Harry had been feeling for days and days seemed to burst through a dam in his chest. He had reached for his wand before he'd thought what he was doing. People all around them scrambled out of the way, backing down the corridor.

'Harry!' Hermione said warningly.

'Don't,' said Arabella to Hermione. 'The anger's been building up for the past couple days he needs to release it.'

'Go on, then, Potter,' Malfoy said quietly, drawing out his own wand. 'Moody's not here to look after you now - do it, if you've got the guts -'

For a split second, they looked into each other's eyes, then, at exactly the same time, both acted.

'Funnunculus!' Harry yelled.

'Densaugeo!' screamed Malfoy.

Jets of light shot from both wands, hit each other in midair, and ricocheted off at angles — Harry's hit Goyle in the face, and Malfoy's hit Hermione. Goyle bellowed and put his hands to his nose, where great ugly boils were springing up - Hermione, whimpering in panic, was clutching her mouth.

'Hermione!'

Ron hurried forward to see what was wrong with her. Arabella tried to drag her hand away from her face. It wasn't a pretty sight. Hermione's front teeth – already larger than average – were now growing at an alarming rate. She was looking like a beaver as her teeth extended, past her bottom lip, towards her chip.

'And what is all this noise about?' said a deadly voice.

Snape had arrived. The Slytherins clamored to give their explanations; Snape pointed a long yellow finger at Malfoy and said, 'Explain.'

'Potter attacked me, sir -'

'We attacked each other at the same time!' Harry shouted.

'- and he hit Goyle - look -'

Snape examined Goyle, whose face now resembled something that would have been at home in a book on poisonous fungi.

'Hospital wing, Goyle,' Snape said calmly.

'Malfoy got Hermione!' Ron said. 'Look!'

He forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth – she was doing her best to hide them with her hands, but finding it difficult as they kept growing. Pansy and some of the other Slytherin girls started to point their fingers at her and laugh.

Snape looked coldly at Hermione, then said, 'I see no difference.'

Hermione let out a whimper; her eyes filled with tears, she turned on her heel and ran, ran all the way up the corridor and out of sight.

It was lucky that Arabella, Harry and Ron started shouting at Snape at the same time. Luckily their voices echoed in the stone corridor, making it impossible for Snape to hear exactly what they were calling him. He got the gist, however.

'Let's see, seventy-five points from Gryffindor, and a detention each for Potter, Weasley and Black. Now get inside, or it'll be a week's worth of detention.'

Arabella was practically fuming. She wanted to curse Snape into a thousand pieces and feed him to Fang. She passed Snape, walked in with Harry and Ron to the back of the dungeon, and slammed her bag down on the ground. Harry and Ron were shaking with anger too, and for a moment, it felt like everything was normal between the two of them, but then Ron turned and sat down with Dean and Seamus instead.

Arabella sighed, 'Harry, you have to –'

'I don't have to do anything,' snapped Harry. 'Drop it.'

'Antidotes!' said Snape, looking around at them all, his cold black eyes glittering unpleasantly. 'You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then, we will be selecting someone on whom to test one…'

Snape was staring at Harry, but there was a knock on the dungeon door. It was Colin Creevey. He edged into the room and walked to Snape's desk at the front of the room.

'Yes?' said Snape curtly.

'Please, sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter upstairs.' Snape stared down his hooked nose at Colin, whose smile faded from his eager face.

'Potter has another hour of Potions to complete,' said Snape coldly. 'He will come upstairs when this class is finished.'

Colin went pink.

'Sir - sir, Mr. Bagman wants him,' he said nervously. 'All the champions have got to go, I think they want to take photographs…'

'Very well, very well,' Snape snapped. 'Potter, leave your things here, I want you back down here later to test your antidote.'

'Please, sir - he's got to take his things with him,' squeaked Cohn. 'All the champions…'

'Very well!' said Snape. 'Potter - take your bag and get out of my sight!'

Harry swung his bag over his shoulder, got up, and headed for the door, leaving Arabella lone at her table.

* * *

That was a brutal lesson. Snape poisoned Neville, but thankfully, his antidote worked. She also found out that she has detention with Snape tomorrow night in his dungeons, what fun! As she was walking to the Great Hall for dinner, she wasn't paying attention and bumped into someone.

'Ah, Arabella Black,' said Nikola, smirking, as she looked up. 'Nice to see you again.'

'I just saw you this morning,' said Arabella, giving him a small smile.

'Too long,' said Nikola. 'Are you waiting for Harry Potter?'

'Yeah, I'm going to go meet him in the Great Hall for dinner,' said Arabella.

'I'll leave you to it then. Give my best to the champion,' said Nikola, as he took Arabella's hand in his again and kissed it.

Arabella managed to find a seat close enough to Ron without him or Harry noticing. Ron was sitting with Dean, Seamus, Fred and George.

'Hey, Ara,' said George, leaning over. 'Sorry about this morning.'

'It's fine,' said Arabella, waving it off.

'You both got an owl,' said George, passing over three envelopes that were unopened.

'Thank George,' said Arabella.

'No problem, but just watch out for the Bulgarian guy. Something about him that I don't like,' said George before focusing his attention back to his food.

Arabella rolled her eyes before opening the first letter addressed to her. It was from Remus.

_Arabella _

_Don't worry about Padfoot, he's safe. Look after yourself and Harry. I know what Mad-Eye's talking about, but I can't put it into a letter, just in case it gets intercepted. On 22__nd__ of November, make sure you're alone with Harry in the Gryffindor Tower by the fire at one in the morning, we have to talk face to face with Padfoot. If something's wrong, go to Dumbledore or Mad-Eye. Be on the watch, Ara. Write to me or Padfoot if something unusual happens. Let me or Padfoot now about the 22__nd__ of November as quickly as you can. I miss you. _

_Remus. _

She opened the second letter from Sirius.

_Arabella –_

_I can't say everything I would like to in a letter, especially about Karkaroff, it's too risky. Meet me and Moony at the Gryffindor Tower by the fire at one o'clock in the morning on 22__nd__ of November. I'll tell you about Karkaroff, and we need to have a talk about something else. _

_Watch out for yourself and Harry. Nobody should be able to attack him with Dumbledore or Moody around. I still want to hear about anything unusual. Let me or Moony know about the 22__nd__ of November as quickly as you can. I miss you. _

_Sirius. _

'Hey,' said Harry, sliding into the seat next to her.

'This came for you,' said Arabella, sliding the letter over.

Harry opened the letter eagerly and read it as fast as he could.

'Professor Lupin's going to be there?' asked Harry.

'Yeah,' said Arabella, and then dropped her voice into a whisper. 'Something's wrong with Karkaroff. There's something fishy about him and Moony and Padfoot knows something about him.'

'We really can't have a normal year, can't we?' sighed Harry.

'No such thing as normal, my dear,' said Arabella, slightly smiling.

**Thank you for reading!**


	15. The Hungarian Horntail

**disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, just Arabella. Hope you like it!**

The Hungarian Horntail

The only thing Arabella was looking forward to was the talk she and Harry were going to have with Sirius and Remus on the 22nd. She didn't know what they were going to talk about, but it was the only thing that was going to keep her and Harry sane at the moment. They wrote back to Sirius and Remus saying that they would be at the Gryffindor Tower alone when the time came and they had a plan if people were still there.

Life had become worse for Harry in the castle, as Rita Skeeter had published her piece about the Triwizard Tournament, which was mostly about Harry's life. She reported about him saying things Arabella knew would never come out of his mouth in a million years.

_I suppose I get my strength from my parents. I know they'd be very proud of me if they could see me now…Yes, sometimes at night I still cry about them, I'm not ashamed to admit it…I know nothing will hurt me during the tournament, because they're watching over me…_

But Rita Skeeter had gone even further than transforming his "er's" into long, sickly sentences. She had interviewed other people about him too.

_Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. His close friend, Colin Creevey, says that Harry is rarely seen out of the company of Arabella Black, a stunningly pretty daughter of the late Auror Kassandra Black and mass murderer Sirius Black, who is still on the run for murdering 12 Muggles and 1 wizard. More detail on page 5. _

From the moment that article appeared, Harry and Arabella had to endure taunts from Slytherins, even the ones that crawled out of their snake pits. The thing that really irked her was that they weren't even clever.

'Got a hanky for your boyfriend, Black?'

'Daddy met Potter yet? I'm sure he'll walk you down the aisle.'

'Arabella!'

'Yes!' yelled Arabella, throwing her hands in the air without seeing who the speaker was. 'I have a box full of tissues for my so-called boyfriend and we are going to cry together about our dead parents before we get married and, of course my father, mass murderer Sirius Black, is going to walk me down the aisle and give Harry his blessing!'

'And I wasn't invited?'

It was Nikola. He was giving her an amused grin. Arabella felt extremely foolish.

'Oh - sorry,' Arabella muttered. 'Didn't see you there.'

'Figure that much,' said Nikola. 'I heard there's a Hogsmeade trip on Saturday, the day before the first task. Will I be seeing you there?'

'Maybe,' said Arabella. 'I'm mostly going to spend my time with Hermione. I haven't been spending as much time as I liked with her.'

'Then I shall be seeing you both there,' said Nikola, smirking.

'Okay, then,' said Arabella, turning around and walking towards the dungeons where a group of Slytherin girls were waiting for her.

'Stunningly pretty? Her?' Pansy said as loudly as she could when she saw Arabella walking down the corridor. 'She was probably being compared to walrus.'

'Ignore it,' said Hermione, pulling back Arabella and Harry. 'Just ignore it.'

'I've been trying,' snapped Arabella. 'I wasn't going to go up to her and curse her for making that comment. I was going to curse her because it wasn't clever. I mean, if you're going to insult me, at least do it properly.'

The unoriginal insults from the Slytherins Arabella could take, but Harry and Ron not talking to each other almost makes her blood boil. She thought that they might be able to patch things up when the three of them had detention, but ever since Rita's article came out, Ron's belief that Harry enjoyed the attention was pretty much confirmed.

Hermione was even more furious with the pair of them than Arabella was. Hermione spent most of her time trying to get Ron to talk to Harry as Arabella was doing the same thing with Harry. It was no use.

'You miss him' said Arabella firmly. 'I know you do and don't bother lying.'

'I do not miss him,' said Harry obviously lying.

'Idiot,' muttered Arabella.

* * *

On the Saturday before the first task, Arabella and Hermione managed to peruse Harry to go with them, saying that it would do him some good to get out of the castle.

'What about Ron, though?' he said. 'Don't you want to go with him?'

'Oh… well…' Hermione went slightly pink and looked at Arabella for some support. 'We thought – I thought – that we might meet up with him in the Three Broomsticks…'

'No,' said Harry flatly.

'Oh Harry, this is so stupid –'

"I'll come, but I'm not meeting Ron, and I'm wearing my Invisibility Cloak."

"Oh all right then…" Hermione snapped, "but I hate talking to you in that cloak, I never know if I'm looking at you or not."

'You have me,' said Arabella, insulted. Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry left to go to his dormitory to get his Invisibility Cloak.

'Listen,' said Arabella, quickly, 'we might meet Nikola there.'

'What?!' Hermione whisper shouted. 'Why?'

'I don't know,' said Arabella, shrugging. 'He just said he might meet us there.'

'You and me?' asked Hermione, widening her eyes.

Before Arabella could answer, she felt a tap on her shoulder and saw that nobody was there.

'Ready?' Arabella asked nobody. She took the silence as a yes. Together, with invisible Harry, they set off for Hogsmeade.

'Why don't we go and have a butterbear in Three Broomsticks?' said Hermione, pointing at the end of the street. 'It's a bit cold, isn't it? And you don't have to talk to Ron,' she added to Harry.

Three Broomsticks was packed, mostly with Hogwarts students and some foreign ones. Hermione managed to get a spare table as Arabella went to go order their drinks. She rejoined them a moment later and slipped Harry a butterbear under his cloak.

'Hermione,' said Arabella, peering at her pockets, 'what's that?'

Hermione looked at what caught Arabella's eye and pulled the object out. It was a notebook that kept a record of all S.P.E.W. members.

'You really brought that?' said Arabella, exasperated.

'Brought what?' asked a voice behind her.

Arabella and Hermione turned around. It was Nikola and Victor Krum.

'Spew,' said Arabella.

'It's not spew!' snapped Hermione. 'It's S.P.E.W. It stands for Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare.'

'I've never heard of it,' said Nikola, taking a seat next to Arabella.

'I've only just started it,' said Hermione.

'Trying to save the world, Miss Granger?' teased Nikola with that smirk Arabella got used to seeing on his face.

'No,' said Hermione, narrowing her eyes. 'Just trying to make it a little bit better.'

Nikola was about to retort but was interrupted by Krum clearing his throat, who looked uncomfortable and wasn't looking at Hermione.

'Ve have to go,' he said, slyly taking a peak at Hermione.

'Very well, I'll see you later,' said Nikola, not bothering to mask his disappointment. He said goodbye to Arabella and Hermione before exiting Three Broomsticks with Krum by his side.

'Well, that was fun,' said Arabella sarcastically.

'I don't like him,' said Hermione, her narrowed eyes on the door of the pub.

'You and me both,' muttered Harry from under the cloak.

'All right there, girls?' said Hagrid loudly. He made his way across the pub with Mad-Eye just behind him.

'Hello Hagrid,' said Arabella and Hermione.

Mad-Eye limped around the table and bent down, looking at Hermione's S.P.E.W. notebook. It looked like he was reading it, but she saw him muttering something to Harry. Arabella knew that he could see through Invisibility Cloaks. Nothing gets by him.

'Nice cloak, Potter,' said Mad-Eye, grinning.

"Can your eye - I mean, can you -?"

"Yeah, it can see through Invisibility Cloaks," Mad-Eye said quietly. "And it's come in useful at times, I can tell you."

Hagrid was smiling at Harry too, but Arabella knew that he would be able to see Harry if Mad-Eye didn't tell him where he was. Hagrid bent down a bit, pretending to read the S.P.E.W. notebook and whispered something in a very low voice that Arabella couldn't hear.

Hagrid soon straightened up and said loudly, 'Nice ter see yeh, Arabella, Hermione,' winked, and left the pub with Mad-Eye following him.

'Why does Hagrid want me to meet him at midnight?' Harry said, surprised.

'Does he?' said Hermione, looking startled. 'I wonder what he's up to? I don't know whether you should go, Harry…' She looked nervously around and hissed 'It might make you late for Sirius.'

Arabella agreed with Hermione, but that made no difference with Harry. At half past eleven that evening, Harry pulled out his Invisibility Cloak and left through the portrait hole. Hermione went to sleep about an hour earlier. The only people left there were Arabella and the Creevey brothers. They managed to get a stack of Support Cedric Diggory! Badges and were trying to bewitch them to make them say Support Harry Potter! instead. So far, all they managed to do was get the badges stuck on POTTER STINKS.

'Why don't you guys try again tomorrow?' called out Arabella, watching them from her spot near the fireplace.

They spent another half hour on them and got it to say POTTER REALLY STINKS!

'I give up!' exclaimed Colin, throwing the one badge he had in his hands to the ground. He ran his hands through his hair and got up to go to his dormitory, Dennis right behind him.

'Finally,' whispered Arabella, getting bored watching them.

'Psst!' whispered a voice.

'What?' said Arabella, looking at the deserted common room.

'Down here! Fireplace!' whispered another voice.

Arabella looked at the flames and almost jumped. You'd think living in the wizarding world for all your life would make you less surprised to see certain things, but it doesn't. Sirius and Remus's heads were sitting in the fire.

Arabella's face broke into a grin, scrambled out of her chair and crouched down by the fireplace. Remus looked the same, but with more worry lines and some small scars on his face. Sirius looked completely different. His face was much fuller, and he looked younger. They both had identical grins on their faces.

'How are you?' Arabella asked the first thing that came to mind.

'Never mind about us,' said Sirius. 'How are you? Where's Harry? And what's this about a boyfriend?'

'I'm fine, Harry'll be here anytime soon and I don't have a boyfriend,' said Arabella. 'Listen, I need to know what's with Kark –'

Arabella's sentence was interrupted by the portrait hole swinging open and Harry barging into it.

'Dragons!' whispered Harry as soon as he spotted her. He looked at the fireplace and jumped before smiling.

'Sirius, Professor Lupin – how are you?' he asked, crouching next to Arabella.

'This is not about us, Harry,' said Remus in a very teacher like tone. 'How are you?'

'I'm –' for a second Arabella thought he was going to say 'fine', but he couldn't. The word wouldn't come out. Before they knew it, he was talking about everything – how nobody believed he hadn't entered the tournament of his own free will, how Rita Skeeter had lied about him in the Daily Prophet, how he couldn't walk down a corridor without being sneered at, and about how Ron didn't believed him and his jealously…

'… and now Hagrid's just shown me what's coming in the first task, and it's dragon! I'm a goner,' he finished desperately.

Sirius and Remus both looked at him with eyes full of concern.

'Dragons we can deal with, Harry,' said Sirius, 'but we'll get to that in a minute. There are things we want to warn you about.'

'What?' asked Arabella. 'What could be worse than dragons?'

'Karkaroff,' said Remus. 'You said Mad-Eye told you to keep an eye out for him? He's a Death Eater, well, he was one. You know what Death Eater are, don't you Harry?'

'Yes – wait – what?'

'He was caught,' said Sirius, 'he was in Azkaban with me, but he got released. I'd bet everything that's why Dumbledore want Mad-Eye at Hogwarts this year – to keep an eye on him.'

'Mad-Eye was the one to catch him and put him in Azkaban in the first place,' said Remus.

'Why did they release him? Is the Ministry _that_ stupid?' asked Arabella.

'He made a deal with the Ministry, so, to answer your question, yes they're that stupid,' said Sirius bitterly. 'He said he'd seen the error of his ways, and then he named some names… he put a load of other people into Azkaban in his place… He's not very popular in there, I can tell you. And since he got out, from what I can tell, he's been teaching the Dark arts to every student who passes through that school of him. So watch out for that lot as well.'

"Okay," said Harry slowly. "But…are you saying Karkaroff put my name in the goblet? Because if he did, he's a really good actor. He seemed furious about it. He wanted to stop me from competing."

"We know he's a good actor," said Sirius, "because he convinced the Ministry of Magic to set him free, didn't he? Now, we've been keeping an eye on the Daily Prophet, Harry…"

"- you and the rest of the world," said Harry bitterly.

'We've been reading in between the lines of what Rita Skeeter has been saying in her last article,' said Remus. 'Mad-Eye was attacked before the stark of Hogwarts, thought it might not be a false alarm, as it was reported. We think that someone tried to stop him from getting to Hogwarts. They probably thought that their job would be more difficult if he was around, and that no one would look to closely at it since Mad-Eye's got intruders coming around often. But that doesn't mean he can't still spot the real thing. Moody was the best Auror the Ministry ever had."

"So…what are you saying?" said Harry slowly. "Karkaroff's trying to kill me? But - why?"

Sirius and Remus looked at each other before continuing.

'I've been hearing some very strange thing,' Sirius said slowly. 'The Death Eaters seem to be a bit more active than usual lately. They showed themselves at the Quidditch World Cup, didn't they? Someone set off the Dark Mark…and then – did you hear about that Ministry of Magic witch who's gone missing?'

'Bertha Jorkins?' said Harry.

"Exactly…she disappeared in Albania, and that's definitely where Voldemort was rumored to be last…and she would have known the Triwizard Tournament was coming up, wouldn't she?"

'Yeah, but it's not like she's going to walk straight into Voldemort's hands, is she?' asked Arabella.

'We knew Bertha Jorkins,' said Remus grimly. 'She was a couple year above us, and she wasn't very bright.'

Sirius snorted. 'She was an idiot. Very nosy with no brains, none at all. Not a very good combination. She'd be very easy to lure into a trap.'

"So…so Voldemort could have found out about the tournament?" said Harry. "Is that what you mean? You think Karkaroff might be here on his orders?"

"I don't know," said Sirius slowly, "I just don't know…Karkaroff doesn't strike me as the type who'd go back to Voldemort unless he knew Voldemort was powerful enough to protect him. But whoever put your name in that goblet did it for a reason, and I can't help thinking the tournament would be a very good way to attack you and make it look like an accident."

"Looks like a really good plan from where I'm standing," said Harry grinning miserable. "They'll just have to stand back and let the dragons do their stuff."

'Right – these dragons,' said Remus, turning back into teacher mode. 'There's a way, Harry. Don't bother stunning them – you'll need at least about half a dozen wizard or more to overcome a dragon –'

'Yeah, I know, I just saw,' said Harry.

'But you can still do it alone,' Remus continued as though he wasn't interrupted. 'There is away, and a simple spell's all you need. Just –'

'Wait, shush,' said Arabella, putting her hands up to silence him. There were footsteps coming down the spiral staircase behind them.

'Go!' Harry hissed at them. 'Someone's coming!'

Arabella and Harry scrambled to their feet, trying to hide the fire. They heard a tiny pop in the fire behind them and knew that Sirius and Remus had left. They watched the bottom of the spiral staircase. It was Ron, who stopped dead facing them across the room and looked around.

'What are you doing down here at this time of night?' said Harry in a very angry tone.

'I just wondered where you –' Ron broke off, shrugging. 'Nothing. I'm going back to bed.'

"Just thought you'd come nosing around, did you?" Harry shouted.

'Harry!' hissed Arabella. She missed them being together. Everything was more fun, happier when they were all together, except for the constantly put into danger scenario.

"Sorry about that," said Ron, his face reddening with anger. "Should've realized you two probably didn't want to be disturbed. I'll let you get on with practicing for your next interview in peace."

Harry seized one of the POTTER REALLY STINKS! badges off the table, and was about to chuck it before Arabella grabbed it out of his hand.

'This is not the way to settle things!' she said, angry at both of them. 'You two have to talk this out, or –'

'I don't have to do anything,' snapped Harry.

'Ron,' pleaded Arabella, turning her attention at him.

Ron shook his head before turning around and heading back to his dormitory. Arabella felt like she could either cry or punch the wall, or just punch Harry now and Ron in the morning. That sounded like fun.

'You both are idiots,' said Arabella, turning back to Harry and shoving the pin straight at his chest. 'Fix this.'

She turned around and started to walk towards her dormitory.

'Arabella,' said Harry, making her turn around. 'I'm sorry.'

'I'm not the one you should be trying to make amends with, Harry,' said Arabella, sighing. 'I want my friends back.'

**Thank you for reading!**


	16. The First Task

**disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, just Arabella. **

**I was going to post this on Friday or Saturday, but then I kind of rushed it because it's my birthday today. So this is my present to you and all those who are born on the same day as me, including Will Smith! I didn't actually write about the First Task, because it's around one o'clock in the morning and I'm really tired, but I wanted to post this by the time I sleep. Sorry for the rant. Hope you like it!**

The First Task

'There you are,' said Harry, rushing towards Arabella, Hermione and Ginny, who were having a nice, pleasant breakfast.

'What's wrong?' asked Hermione, eating her porridge.

'Nothing,' said Harry. 'Just hurry up.'

Not eating, Harry waited until Hermione had swallowed her last spoonful of porridge and Arabella ate her last bacon piece, then dragged them both out onto the grounds. Harry and Arabella told her about the dragons, everything Sirius and Remus said while taking a walk around the lake.

Alarmed by Sirius and Remus's warnings about Karkaroff, Hermione still thought that the dragons were the more pressing problem.

'Let's just try to keep you alive until Tuesday evening,' she said desperately, 'and then we can worry about Karkaroff.'

They walked around the lake three times, trying to think of a simple spell that would subdue a dragon. Nothing whatsoever occurred to them, so they retired to the library instead. Here, Arabella and Harry pulled down every book they could find that had 'dragon' written on them.

'Talon-clipping by charms…treating scale-rot…This is no good, this is for nutters like Hagrid who want to keep them healthy…'

'Dragons are extremely difficult to slay, no shit, owning to the ancient magic that imbues their think hides, which but the most powerful spell can penetrate… but Moony said that there was a simple on…'

'Let's try some simple spellbooks, then,' said Harry, throwing aside Men Who Love Dragons Too Much

He returned to the table with a pile of spellbooks, set them down, and Arabella began to flick through each on turn, with Hermione beside her whispering under her breath nonstop.

'Well, there are Switching Spells…but what's the point of Switching it? Unless you swapped its fangs for wine-gums or something that would make it less dangerous…The trouble is, like that book said, not much is going to get through a dragon's hide…I'd say Transfigure it, but something that big, you really haven't got a hope, I doubt even Professor McGonagall…unless you're supposed to put the spell on yourself? Maybe to give yourself extra powers? But they're not simple spells, I mean, we haven't done any of those in class, I only know about them because I've been doing O.W.L. practice papers…'

'Hermione,' Harry said, through gritted teeth, 'will you shut up for a bit, please? I'm trying to concentrate.'

As much as Arabella was grateful that Harry was the one to tell her to stop talking, nothing was going through her brain. She read the same sentence 12 times already and none of the words were processing into her brain.

'Oh no, they're back again, why can't they read on their stupid ship?' said Hermione irritably as Krum slouched in with Nikola walking a bit more upbeat than him. Nikola spotted Arabella and walked over to her with Krum following him. Right behind Krum was a string of girls tiptoeing behind him.

'Hello Arabella, Hermione, Harry,' said Nikola. He said Arabella and Hermione's name in a happy sort of voice, but said Harry's in a less than friendly one.

'Hello Nikola,' said Arabella, smiling. Hermione nodded at him while Harry just glared openly.

'So, what are you doing?' he asked, sitting beside her. Krum was still standing in front of them, looking surly.

'Wouldn't you like to know,' teased Arabella, closing the book and covering the title.

'Yes, I would,' said Nikola, coming closer to Arabella. He was so close that she could see the finer details of his face and upper body. He had a couple stubbles on his face and she could see a faint scar near his collarbone. He was wearing a thin fabric button up black shirt that seemed to bring out his lean built.

Harry was glaring at them so much that nobody should be surprised if Arabella or Nikola suddenly burst into flames. Nikola smirked, but any spectator would not have known if it was because he noticed Arabella looking or Harry's glare.

'See something you like?' he asked, his smirk growing when he caught a faint growl coming from Harry.

'Where did you get that scar?' asked Arabella, trying to cover her gawking up.

'All thanks to my friend Victor here,' said Nikola, turning to Krum with a bright, dazzling smile on his face. 'We were playing as Beaters once and he accidently hit me with the club on that exact spot. Sufficient to say, that's the day he found out he rather be a Seeker than a Beater.'

'Too bad he didn't hit you in the face,' mumbled Harry. Nobody heard him.

Krum cleared his throat very loudly and signaled towards the other side of the library. Nikola didn't bother to hide his disappointment.

'Very well,' he said to Krum. 'I shall see you later Arabella. Good day Hermione. Harry.'

He gave Arabella a kiss on her hand and walked to the other side of the library with Krum right beside him.

'Let's just get out of here,' said Harry. Without waiting of either of them, Harry slammed the book on the table and walked out of the library.

* * *

'I'll see you guys at the greenhouse,' said Harry, watching Cedric leaving the Hall. 'Go on, I'll catch up.'

'Harry, you'll be late, the bell's about to ring –'

'I'll catch up later, okay?'

Before Hermione could retort, Harry dashed out of the Hall, trying to catch up with Cedric.

'What was that about?' Hermione asked.

'I think he was trying to catch up with Cedric,' said Arabella, finished her toast.

'What makes you say that?'

'He's been looking at Cedric the whole time we were eating,' said Arabella. 'He's most likely going to say something about the dragons to him. It's just like Harry, trying to do the noble and honourable thing. Let's get going.'

Arabella and Hermione walked to Herbology together. They found out that they would be pruning Flutterby Bushes today.

Arabella and Hermione looked at each other with slight anxiety in their eyes.

'I hold down, you cut?' asked Hermione.

'Okay,' said Arabella.

It was a hopeless mission. The bushes kept fighting and trying to get out of Hermione's grasp. Professor Sprout forbid Arabella from stabbing it just as she picked up the knife, held it above her head and almost jammed it through the beastly little thing.

'How the bloody hell do we tame this wretched thing?' said Arabella, gritting her teeth.

'Look at Neville,' said Hermione, watching him from across the table.

Neville was in his element when it came to Herbology. While everybody else was struggling, he seemed to be stroking the monster near its middle and… _humming?_

'You're going to hum to the vile bush?' said Arabella incredulity written all over her face while looking at Hermione.

'Well…' said Hermione, looking hesitant, 'I don't have a very good singing voice… so… you're…'

'No,' said Arabella firmly. 'That's where I draw the line. I'll rub it, cuddle it, baby it, anything, but I will not sing to a plant.'

'Come on,' said Hermione, rolling her eyes at Arabella. 'It won't be that bad. Just hum a tone or something.'

Arabella didn't know why, but for some reason 'Come Fly with Me' was the first thing that came to mind.

'No singing,' said Hermione. 'Just hum something. It's getting feisty.'

'Merlin's sake,' cursed Arabella, before humming the song. The bush seemed to calm down considerable and Arabella took the opportunity to finally trim its skin off. Just as she finished her first slice, Harry came bursting through the greenhouse door and mumbled an apology to Professor Sprout.

'Where the bloody hell have you been?' snarled Arabella, pissed off beyond anybody's comprehension. 'I had to _hum _to this stupid thing!'

'I need you both to help me' whispered Harry.

'Gee, I wonder what we've been trying to do this entire time,' said Arabella.

'I need to learn how to do a Summoning Charm properly by tomorrow afternoon,' said Harry.

'_What_?' said Hermione and Arabella as the bush seized the knife and proceeded to stab Arabella with the handle part of it.

* * *

And so they practiced. They didn't have lunch, but headed for a free classroom, where Harry tried with all his might to make various objects fly across toward him. He was still having problems. The book and quills kept losing heart halfway across the room and dropped to the floor like dead flies.

'Concentrate, Harry,' said Hermione, 'concentrate…'

'What d'you think I'm trying to do?' said Harry angrily. 'A great big dragon keeps popping up in my head for some reason… Okay, try again…'

'Maybe we should skip Divination and keep practicing,' said Arabella. 'She's just going to predict your death, you already know that.'

'Absolutely not,' said Hermione sternly that reminded Harry of Mrs Weasley. 'You are not skipping that class and I am not skipping Arithmancy.'

Harry and Arabella had to endure over an hour of Professor Trelawney saying that the position of Mars with relation to Saturn at the moment meant that people born in July were in great danger of sudden violent deaths.

'Well, that's good,' said Harry loudly, his temper getting the better of him, 'just as long as it's not drawn-out. I don't want to suffer.'

Ron looked for a moment as though he was going to laugh; he certainly caught Harry's eye for the first time in days, but Harry was still feeling too resentful toward Ron to care. He spent the rest of the lesson trying to attract small objects toward him under the table with his wand. He managed to make a fly zoom straight into his hand, though he wasn't entirely sure that was his prowess at Summoning Charms - perhaps the fly was just stupid.

He and Arabella forced down some dinner after Divination, then returned to the empty classroom with Hermione, using the Invisibility Cloak to avoid teachers.

'This is hopeless!' said Harry, unable to get the dictionary out of Arabella's hands.

'You're just not –'said Hermione.

'I'm concentrating,' snapped Harry, his irritation overcoming him at the moment.

'What do you want most in the world?' asked Arabella suddenly.

'What?' asked Harry, taken back. Even Hermione didn't know where Arabella was going with this.

'What is the thing you want most in the world?' repeated Arabella, smiling.

'I dunno,' lied Harry. They were so many things he wanted in life. His parents, Sirius being a free man, a normal life, Voldemort never existing, Nikola gone from Hogwarts and far, far, far away in Bulgaria, _and something else…_

'Nice try,' said Arabella, smiling. 'Just imagine whatever that is and just pretty much summoning it.'

'So, if I want a homemade apple pie with caramel glazing on it, I should just image it being there and summon it?' questioned Hermione, looking really skeptical.

'Pretty much, yeah,' said Arabella, nodding her head.

'Why not,' said Hermione, shrugging her shoulders. 'What have we got to lose?'

'Just try it,' said Arabella, feeling slightly irritated and sleepy.

Harry closed his eyes and imaged _it_ standing right in front of him, in the form of a dictionary. It didn't take that long. He just pictured _it_ in his head and whispered 'Accio!'

The dictionary flew out of Arabella's hand and straight into Harry's stomach.

'It worked!' said Harry, happily. 'I've got it!'

'It worked,' whispered Hermione, caught between delight and amazement.

'Told ya,' said Arabella to Hermione, smiling.

'Thank you,' said Harry to Arabella sincerely.

'No problem,' said Arabella warmly.

There was a slight pause as Harry and Arabella gazed at each other for what seemed like hours, but was really a few short seconds. Hermione was getting uncomfortable and cleared her throat.

'We should try again a few more times before we go to bed,' said Hermione, awkwardly.

'Yeah,' said Harry, snapping out of it and summoning things that were far away from Arabella.

At two o'clock in the morning, Harry, Arabella and Hermione finally returned back to the common room where the retreated to their beds, eagerly waiting for tomorrow.

* * *

The atmosphere the following morning was filled with great tension and excitement. Arabella was excited to see what the other champions had in store for the crowd, but she wanted Harry to be there watching instead of participating. The whole day went by in a blur until lunch time.

'Potter,' said Professor McGonagall, snapping Harry out of his trance, 'the champions have to come down onto the grounds now… You have to get ready for your first task.'

'Okay,' said Harry, getting up very quickly as his fork fell onto his plate with a rattle.

'Good luck, Harry,' Hermione whispered. 'You'll be fine!'

'We'll be cheering you the whole time,' said Arabella.

'Yeah,' said Harry, but he wasn't really paying attention.

He left the hall with Professor McGonagall, who didn't look like herself either.

'I think I'm going to puke,' said Arabella, her stomach felling queasy as she watched Harry walk out of the Hall.

'We should get going,' said Hermione, looking slightly green, but made no efforts to get up.

Getting up would mean seeing Harry as a champion. All this time it was just a saying, but now it's finally happening. Harry Potter is one of the Hogwarts champions and he's going to face a dragon. Arabella had never felt this sick before in a long time.

* * *

As soon as they could, Arabella, Hermione and Ron ran towards the champion's tent to go see Harry after his spectacular performance. Arabella and Hermione darted inside as fast as they could with Ron following closely behind.

'Harry, you were brilliant!' Hermione said squeakily. 'You were amazing! You really were!'

'It was amazing!' said Arabella ecstatically. 'You were wonderful!'

But Harry was only looking at Ron, who was very white and looked at Harry like he was a ghost.

'Harry,' he said, very seriously, 'whoever put your name in that goblet - I – I reckon they're trying to do you in!'

'Caught on, have you?' said Harry coldly. 'Took you long enough!'

Arabella and Hermione stood nervously between them, looking between the both of them like it was a tennis match. Ron opened his mouth uncertainly, but Harry interrupted him.

'It's okay,' he said, before Ron could get the words out. 'Forget it.'

'No,' said Ron, 'I shouldn't've -'

'Forget it, 'Harry said.

Ron grinned nervously at him, and Harry grinned back

Hermione burst into tears.

'There's nothing to cry about!' Harry told her, bewildered.

'You two are so stupid!' she shouted, stamping her foot on the ground, tears splashing down her front. Then, before any of them could stop her, she had given all three of them a hug and dashed away, now positively howling.

'Barking mad,' said Ron, shaking his head. 'Harry, c'mon, they'll be putting up your scores…'

Picking up the golden egg and his Firebolt, Harry ducked out of the tent with Arabella and Ron, who was talking fast.

'You were the best, you know, no competition. Cedric did this weird thing where he Transfigured a rock on the ground…turned it into a dog…he was trying to make the dragon go for the dog instead of him. Well, it was a pretty cool bit of Transfiguration, and it sort of worked, because he did get the egg, but he got burned as well - the dragon changed its mind halfway through and decided it would rather have him than the Labrador; he only just got away. And that Fleur girl tried this sort of charm, I think she was trying to put it into a trance - well, that kind of worked too, it went all sleepy, but then it snored, and this great jet of flame shot out, and her skirt caught fire - she put it out with a bit of water out of her wand. And Krum - you won't believe this, but he didn't even think of flying! He was probably the best after you, though. Hit it with some sort of spell right in the eye. Only thing is, it went trampling around in agony and squashed half the real eggs - they took marks off for that, he wasn't supposed to do any damage to them.'

Ron drew breath as they reached the edge of the field. The judges were sitting right at the other end of the arena.

'It's marked out of ten,' Arabella said.

The first judge, Madame Maxime, raised her wand in the air. A long silver ribbon shot out if it, forming an eight.

'Not bad!' said Ron as the crowd applauded. 'I suppose she took marks off for your shoulder…'

Mr. Crouch came next. He shot a number nine into the air.

'Looking good!' Ron yelled, thumping Harry on the back.

Next, Dumbledore. He too put up a nine. The crowd was cheering harder than ever.

Ludo Bagman - ten.

'Ten?' said Harry in disbelief. 'But…I got hurt…What's he playing at?'

'Don't complain,' scolded Arabella.

And now Karkaroff raised his wand. He paused for a moment, and then a number shot out of his wand too - four.

'What?' Ron bellowed furiously. 'Four? You lousy, biased scumbag, you gave Krum ten!'

Arabella felt so much better when she left the arena than she did entering it. Harry was safe and was friends again with Ron. Most of the school was cheering Harry on just as much as they did with Cedric.

'You're tied in first place, Harry! You and Krum!' said Charlie Weasley, hurrying to meet then as they set off back toward the school. 'Listen, I've got to run, I've got to go and send Mum an owl, I swore I'd tell her what happened - but that was unbelievable! Oh yeah - and they told me to tell you you've got to hang around for a few more minutes…Bagman wants a word, back in the champions' tent.'

Arabella and Ron said that they would wait for him as Harry re-entered the tent. As soon as Harry did, Arabella practically tackled Ron was a fierce hug. He was so caught off guard.

'You stupid, idiot boy,' said Arabella, burying her head in his shoulder. 'Never do that again.' She then moved away from him and started to hit every single spot she could reach.

'Ow! Okay – okay – stop! I won't – Promise!' said Ron, trying to block her hands but was failing.

'Good,' said Arabella, hugging him again. 'I miss you.'

'I miss you too,' said Ron, awkwardly patting her back.

Arabella let go of Ron just as Harry rejoined them.

'Ready?' asked Ron.

'Ready,' said Harry, smiling at him.

Just as they were half way through the castle, a witch snuck up behind them, nearly scaring the crap out of Arabella. It was Rita Skeeter.

'Congratulations, Harry!' she said, beaming at him. 'I wonder if you could give me a quick word? How you felt facing that dragon? How you feel now, about the fairness of the scoring?'

'Yeah, you can have a word,' said Harry savagely. 'Good-bye.'

And they set off back to the castle.

**Thank you for reading!**


	17. The House-Elf Liberation Front

**disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, just Arabella. Hope you like it!**

The House-Elf Liberation Front

That evening, they all went to the Owlery to find Pigwidgeon so that Arabella and Harry could send a letter to Sirius while Arabella sent another one to Remus. On the way, Harry filled Ron in on everything Sirius and Remus had told them about Karkaroff. Though shocked at first to hear Karkaroff had been a Death Eater, by the time they entered the Owlery Ron was saying that they ought to have suspect it all along.

'Fits, doesn't it?' he said. 'Remember what Malfoy said on the train, about his dad being friends with Karkaroff? Now we know where they knew each other. They were probably running around in masks together at the World Cup…I'll tell you one thing, though, Harry, if it was Karkaroff who put your name in the goblet, he's going to be feeling really stupid now, isn't he? Didn't work, did it? You only got a scratch! Come here - I'll do it -'

Pigwidgeon was so overexcited at the idea of a delivery he was flying all round, hooting incessantly. Ron snatched Pigwidgeon out of the air and held him still while Harry attached the letter to his leg.

'There's no way any of the other tasks are going to be that dangerous, how could they be?' Ron went on as he carried Pigwidgeon to the window. 'You know what? I reckon you could win this tournament, Harry, I'm serious.'

Arabella knew that Ron was saying this to make up for his behaviour for the last couple weeks, but she really didn't care. She had her boys back and nothing get her out of her happy mood. Hermione, however, leaned against the wall, folded her arms, and frowned at Ron.

'Harry's got a long way to go before he finishes this tournament,' she said seriously. 'If that was the first task, I hate to think what's coming next.'

'Right little ray of sunshine, aren't you?' said Ron. 'You and Professor Trelawney should get together sometime.'

'Let's just be grateful the dragon didn't gobble Harry up,' said Arabella.

'Gee, thanks,' said Harry sarcastically.

Ron threw Pigwidgeon out of the window. Pigwidgeon plummeted twelve feet before picking back up again.

'Well, we'd better get downstairs for your surprise party, Harry – Fred and George should have nicked enough food from the kitchens by now,' said Ron.

Sure enough, when they entered the Gryffindor common room it exploded with cheers and yells again. There were mountains of cakes and pumpkin juice and butterbeer on every surface. Lee had let off some fireworks, so that the air was thick with star and sparks. Dean had put up some impressive new banners, which depicted Harry zooming around the Horntail's head on his Firebolt, though a couple showed Cedric with his head on fire.

Arabella, Harry, Ron and Hermione sat down and helped themselves to some food. It felt good that they were all together.

'Blimey, this is heavy,' said Lee, picking up the golden egg, which Harry had left on a table, and weighing it in his hands. 'Open it, Harry, go on! Let's just see what's inside it!'

'He's supposed to work out the clue on his own,' Hermione said swiftly. 'It's in the tournament rules…'

'He was also supposed to work out how to get passed the dragon on his own, too,' whispered Arabella. 'Wonder who helped him out.'

Hermione grinned rather guiltily.

'Yeah, go on, Harry, open it!' several people echoed.

Lee passed Harry the egg, and Harry dug his fingernails into the groove that ran all the way around it and prised it open.

It was hollow and completely empty - but the moment Harry opened it, the most horrible noise, a loud and screechy wailing, filled the room. The nearest thing to it Arabella had ever heard was the ghost orchestra at Nearly Headless Nick's deathday party, who had all been playing the musical saw.

'Shut it!' Fred bellowed, his hands over his ears.

'What was that?' said Seamus, staring at the egg as Harry slammed it shut again. 'Sounded like a banshee… Maybe you've got to get passed one of those next, Harry!'

'It was someone being tortured!' said Neville, who had gone very white and spilled sausage rolls all over the floor. 'You're going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!'

'No they won't,' said Arabella hotly. They'll have to get through her if they even think about torturing Harry, or anybody else for that matter. Nobody should ever have to go through that.

'Don't be a prat, Neville, that's illegal,' said George. 'They wouldn't use the Cruciatus Curse on the champions. I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing…maybe you've got to attack him while he's in the shower. Harry.'

'Want a jam tart, Hermione?' said Fred.

Hermione looked doubtfully at the plate he was offering her. Fred grinned.

'It's all right,' he said. 'I haven't done anything to them. It's the custard creams you've got to watch -'

Neville, who had just bitten into a custard cream, choked and spat it out. Fred laughed.

'Just my little joke, Neville…'

Hermione took a jam tart. Then she said, 'Did you get all this from the kitchens, Fred?'

'Yep,' said Fred, grinning at her. He put on a high-pitched squeak and imitated a house-elf. ''Anything we can get you, sir, anything at all!' They're dead helpful…get me a roast ox if I said I was peckish.'

'How do you get in there?' Hermione said in an innocently casual sort of voice.

'Easy,' said Fred, 'concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the pear, and it giggles and -' He stopped and looked suspiciously at her. 'Why?'

'Nothing,' said Hermione quickly.

'Going to try and lead the house-elves out on strike now, are you?' said George. 'Going to give up all the leaflet stuff and try and stir them up into rebellion?'

Several people chortled. Hermione didn't answer.

'Don't you go upsetting them and telling them they've got to take clothes and salaries!' said Fred warningly. 'You'll put them off their cooking!'

Just then, Neville caused a slight diversion by turning into a large canary.

'Oh - sorry, Neville!' Fred shouted over all the laughter. 'I forgot - it was the custard creams we hexed -'

Within a minute, however, Neville had molted, and once his feathers had fallen off, he reappeared looking entirely normal. He even joined in laughing.

'Canary Creams!' Fred shouted to the excitable crowd. 'George and I invented them - seven Sickles each, a bargain!'

It was nearly one in the morning when Arabella finally went up to the dormitory with Hermione, Lavender and Parvati. She had a nice dream, sort of. In her dream, Harry was slaying a dragon that looked oddly like Nikola, came to her with roses, and gave her a passionate kiss. _If only that really happened…_

* * *

'Well, well, well… this does look like fun.'

Rita Skeeter was leaning on Hagrid's garden fence, looking at the mayhem the skrewts were causing. It was the starting of December and the weather was starting to become chilly. Arabella really didn't appreciate being outside at this tiime, even if it was Hagrid's class.

'Who're you?' Hagrid asked.

'Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter,' Rita replied, beaming at him. Her gold teeth glinted.

'Thought Dumbledore said you weren' allowed inside the school anymore,' said Hagrid, frowning slightly as he got off the slightly squashed skrewt and started tugging it over to its fellows.

Rita acted as though she hadn't heard what Hagrid had said.

'What are these fascinating creatures called?' she asked, beaming still more widely.

'Blast-Ended Skrewts,' grunted Hagrid.

'Really?' said Rita, apparently full of lively interest. 'I've never heard of them before…where do they come from?'

Arabella noticed a dull red flush rising up out of Hagrid's beard, and her heart sank. Knowing Hagrid and how he got Norbert, it probably wasn't legal. Hermione was thinking along these lines, and said quickly, 'They're very interesting, aren't they? Aren't they, Harry?'

'What? Oh yeah…ouch…interesting,' said Harry as she stepped on his foot.

'Ah, you're here. Harry!' said Rita as she looked around. 'So you like Care of Magical Creatures, do you? One of your favorite lessons?'

'Yes,' said Harry stoutly. Hagrid beamed at him.

'Lovely,' said Rita. 'Really lovely. Been teaching long?' she added to Hagrid. Arabella noticed her eyes travel over Dean, who had a nasty cut on one of his cheeks, Lavender, whose robes were badly burned, Seamus, who had several scorched fingers, and then to the cabin windows, where most of the class stood, their noses pressed against the glass waiting to see if the coast was clear.

'This is o'ny me second year,' said Hagrid.

'Lovely…I don't suppose you'd like to give an interview, would you? Share some of your experience of magical creatures? The Prophet does a zoological column every Wednesday, as I'm sure you know. We could feature these - er - Bang- Ended Scoots.'

'Blast-Ended Skrewts,' Hagrid said eagerly. 'Er - yeah, why not?'

Hagrid and Rita made arrangements to meet in the Three Broomsticks for a good long interview later that week and Arabella knew that Harry wasn't happy about this. Then the bell rang, signalling the end of the lesson.

'Well, good-bye, Harry!' Rita Skeeter called merrily to him as they set of towards the castle. 'Until Friday night, then, Hagrid!'

'She'll twist everything he says,' Harry said under his breath.

'Just as long as he didn't import those skrewts illegally or anything,' said Hermione desperately.

They looked at one another - it was exactly the sort of thing Hagrid might do.

'Hagrids been in loads of trouble before, and Dumbledores never sacked him,' said Ron consolingly. 'Worst that can happen is Hagrid'll have to get rid of the skrewts. Sorry…did I say worst? I meant best.'

They all laughed, and went off to lunch, feeling more cheerful.

Arabella enjoyed Divination that afternoon. They were still doing star charts and predictions, but now that Harry and Ron were friends again, the whole thing seemed very funny again. Professor Trelawney quickly became irritated as they kept sniggering through her explanation of the various ways in which Pluto could disrupt everyday life.

'I would think,' she said, in a mystical whisper that did not conceal her obvious annoyance, 'that some of us' - she stared very meaningfully at Harry- 'might be a little less frivolous had they seen what I have seen during my crystal gazing last night. As I sat here, absorbed in my needlework, the urge to consult the orb overpowered me. I arose, I settled myself before it, and I gazed into its crystalline depths…and what do you think I saw gazing back at me?'

'An ugly old bat in outsize specs?' Ron muttered under his breath.

Arabella tried to keep her face straight, and when she saw Harry trying the same thing, she burst out laughing. Professor Trelawney scowled at her, but Arabella really didn't care.

'Death, my dears,' Professor Trelawney whispered, making it more dramatic than usual.

Parvati and Lavender both put their hands over their mouths, looking horrified.

'Yes,' said Professor Trelawney, nodding impressively, 'it comes, ever closer, it circles overhead like a vulture, ever lower…ever lower over the castle…' She stared pointedly at Harry, who yawned very widely and obviously.

'It'd be a bit more impressive if she hadn't done it about eighty times before,' Harry said as they finally regained the fresh air of the staircase beneath Professor Trelawney's room. 'But if I'd dropped dead every time she's told me I'm going to, I'd be a medical miracle.'

'You'd be a sort of extra-concentrated ghost,' said Ron, chortling, as they passed the Bloody Baron going in the opposite direction, his wide eyes staring sinisterly.

'At least we didn't get homework. I hope Hermione got loads off Professor Vector, I love not working when she is…'

But Hermione wasn't at dinner, nor was she in the library when they went to look for her afterward. The only people there were Krum and Nikola, who gave Arabella a smirk when he saw her.

'Wonder where she's got to?' Ron said as he and Harry went back to Gryffindor Tower.

'Dunno…balderdash.'

But the Fat Lady had barely begun to swing forward when the sound of racing feet behind them announced Hermione's arrival.

'Arabella!' she panted, skidding to a halt beside her. 'Arabella, you've got to come – you've got to come, the most amazing thing's happened – please –'

'Unless it's a fountain of melted chocolate with Leonardo DiCaprio waiting there for me, I don't –'

Before Arabella could finish her sentence, Hermione seized her arm and started to drag her back along the corridor.

'What's the matter?' said Harry, following them.

'I'll show you when we get there - oh come on, quick -'

Arabella looked around at Ron, who was looking intrigued.

'Fine,' mumbled Arabella, now thinking about chocolate.

'Oh don't mind me!' the Fat Lady called irritably after them. 'Don't apologize for bothering me! I'll just hang here, wide open, until you get back, shall I?'

'Yeah, thanks!' Ron shouted over his shoulder.

'Hermione, where are we going?' Harry asked, after she had led them down through six floors, and started down the marble staircase into the entrance hall.

'You'll see, you'll see in a minute!' said Hermione excitedly.

She turned left at the bottom of the staircase and hurried towards a door. They followed Hermione down a flight of stone steps, but instead of ending up in a gloomy underground passage like the one that led to Snape's dungeon, they found themselves in a broad stone corridor, brightly lit with torches, and decorated with cheerful paintings that were mainly of food.

'Oh hang on…' said Harry slowly, halfway down the corridor. 'Wait a minute, Hermione…'

'What?' She turned around to look at him, anticipation all over her face.

'I know what this is about,' said Harry.

He nudged Ron and pointed to the painting just behind Hermione, which showed a gigantic silver fruit bowl.

'Hermione!' said Ron, cottoning on. 'You're trying to rope us into that spew stuff again!'

'No, no, I'm not!' she said hastily. 'And it's not spew, Ron -'

'Changed the name, have you?' said Ron, frowning at her. 'What are we now, then, the HouseElf Liberation Front? I'm not barging into that kitchen and trying to make them stop work, I'm not doing it -'

'I'm not asking you to!' Hermione said impatiently. 'I came down here just now, to talk to them all, and I found - oh come on, I want to show you!'

She seized Arabella's arm again and pulled her in front of the picture of the fruit bowl, stretched out her forefinger, and tickled the huge green pear. It began to squirm, chuckling, and suddenly turned into a large green door handle. Hermione seized it, pulled the door open, and pushed Arabella hard in the back, forcing her inside with Harry following in soon after her.

'Harry Potter, sir! Harry Potter!' squealed a voice from the middle of the room.

Next second, the squealing lf hit Harry hard in the midriff, hugging him so tightly.

'D-Dobby?' Harry gasped.

'It is Dobby, sir, it is!' squealed the voice from somewhere around his navel. 'Dobby has been hoping and hoping to see Harry Potter, sir, and Harry Potter has come to see him, sir!'

Dobby let go and stepped back a few paces, beaming up at Harry, his enormous, green, tennisball-shaped eyes brimming with tears of happiness. He had a bat-like ears, long fingers and feet. He looked a lot like Kreacher the last time she saw her house-elf, but much younger than Kreacher. Dobby was wearing a tea cozy for a hat, a tie patterned with horseshoes over a bare chest, a pair of what looked like children's soccer shorts and odd socks. One of them was black while the other was pink and orange stripes.

'Dobby, what're you doing here?' Harry said in amazement.

'Dobby has come to work at Hogwarts, sir!' Dobby squealed excitedly. 'Professor Dumbledore gave Dobby and Winky jobs, sir!

'Winky?' said Harry. 'She's here too?'

'Yes, sir, yes!' said Dobby, and he seized Harry's hand and pulled him off into the kitchen between the four long wooden tables that stood there. Each of these tables was positioned exactly beneath the four Houses tables above in the Great Hall.

At least a hundred little elves were standing around the kitchen, beaming, bowing, and curtsying as Dobby led Harry past them. They were all wearing the same uniform: a tea towel stamped with the Hogwarts crest, and tied, as Winky's had been, like a toga.

Dobby stopped in front of the brick fireplace and pointed.

'Winky, sir!' he said.

Winky was sitting on a stool by the fire. Unlike Dobby, she had obviously not foraged for clothes. She was wearing a neat little skirt and blouse with a matching blue hat, which had holes in it for her large ears. However, while every one of Dobby's strange collection of garments was so clean and well cared for that it looked brand-new, Winky was plainly not taking care other clothes at all. There were soup stains all down her blouse and a burn in her skirt.

'Hello, Winky,' said Harry.

Winky's lip quivered. Then she burst into tears, which spilled out of her great brown eyes and splashed down her front, just as they had done at the Quidditch World Cup.

'Oh dear,' said Hermione. 'Winky, don't cry, please don't…'

But Winky cried harder than ever. Dobby, on the other hand, beamed up at Harry.

'Would Harry Potter like a cup of tea?' he squeaked loudly, over Winky's sobs.

'Er - yeah, okay,' said Harry.

Instantly, about six house-elves came trotting up behind him, bearing a large silver tray laden with a teapot, cups for Harry, Ron, Arabella and Hermione, a milk jug, and a large plate of biscuits.

'Good service!' Ron said, in an impressed voice. Hermione frowned at him, but the elves all looked delighted; they bowed very low and retreated.

'How long have you been here, Dobby?' Harry asked as Dobby handed around the tea.

'Only a week, Harry Potter, sir!' said Dobby happily. 'Dobby came to see Professor Dumbledore, sir. You see, sir, it is very difficult for a house-elf who has been dismissed to get a new position, sir, very difficult indeed -'

At this, Winky howled even harder, her squashed-tomato of a nose dribbling all down her front, though she made no effort to stem the flow.

'Dobby has traveled the country for two whole years, sir, trying to find work!' Dobby squeaked. 'But Dobby hasn't found work, sir, because Dobby wants paying now!'

The house-elves all around the kitchen, who had been listening and watching with interest, all looked away at these words, as though Dobby had said something rude and embarrassing. Hermione, however, said, 'Good for you, Dobby!' Arabella kicked her under the table.

'Thank you, miss!' said Dobby, grinning toothily at her. 'But most wizards doesn't want a house-elf who wants paying, miss. 'That's not the point of a house-elf,' they says, and they slammed the door in Dobby's face! Dobby likes work, but he wants to wear clothes and he wants to be paid. Harry Potter…Dobby likes being free!'

The Hogwarts house-elves had now started edging away from Dobby, as though he were carrying something contagious. Winky, however, remained where she was, though there was a definite increase in the volume of her crying.

'And then, Harry Potter, Dobby goes to visit Winky, and finds out Winky has been freed too, sir!' said Dobby delightedly.

At this, Winky flung herself forward off her stool and lay face-down on the flagged stone floor, beating her tiny fists upon it and positively screaming with misery. Hermione hastily dropped down to her knees beside her and tried to comfort her, but nothing she said made the slightest difference. Dobby continued with his story, shouting shrilly over Winky's screeches.

'And then Dobby had the idea. Harry Potter, sir! 'Why doesn't Dobby and Winky find work together?' Dobby says. 'Where is there enough work for two house elves?' says Winky. And Dobby thinks, and it comes to him, sir! Hogwarts! So Dobby and Winky came to see Professor Dumbledore, sir, and Professor Dumbledore took us on!'

Dobby beamed very brightly, and happy tears welled in his eyes again.

'And Professor Dumbledore says he will pay Dobby, sir, if Dobby wants paying! And so Dobby is a free elf, sir, and Dobby gets a Galleon a week and one day off a month!'

'That's not very much!' Hermione shouted indignantly from the floor, over Winky's continued screaming and fist-beating.

'Professor Dumbledore offered Dobby ten Galleons a week, and weekends off,' said Dobby, suddenly giving a little shiver, as though the prospect of so much leisure and riches were frightening, 'but Dobby beat him down, miss… Dobby likes freedom, miss, but he isn't wanting too much, miss, he likes work better.'

'And how much is Professor Dumbledore paying you, Winky?' Hermione asked kindly. If she had thought this would cheer up Winky, she was wildly mistaken. Winky did stop crying, but when she sat up she was glaring at Hermione through her massive brown eyes, her whole face sopping wet and suddenly furious.

'Winky is a disgraced elf, but Winky is not yet getting paid!' she squeaked. 'Winky is not sunk so low as that! Winky is properly ashamed of being freed!'

'Ashamed?' said Hermione blankly. 'But - Winky, come on! It's Mr. Crouch who should be ashamed, not you! You didn't do anything wrong, he was really horrible to you -'

'Oh, Hermione,' moaned Arabella wanted to slap her hands on her face, or Hermione's. House-elves never spoke ill of their families and could barely tolerate it if others did, even if they were free. She saw this with the way Kreacher acted with her grandmother, before and after she died. Even though Kreacher loved her grandmother, he was less than kind to Sirius.

At Hermione's words, Winky clapped her hands over the holes in her hat, flattening her ears so that she couldn't hear a word, and screeched, 'You is not insulting my master, miss! You is not insulting Mr. Crouch! Mr. Crouch is a good wizard, miss! Mr. Crouch is right to sack bad Winky!'

'Winky is having trouble adjusting, Harry Potter,' squeaked Dobby confidentially. 'Winky forgets she is not bound to Mr. Crouch anymore; she is allowed to speak her mind now, but she won't do it.'

'Can't house-elves speak their minds about their masters, then?' Harry asked.

'Oh no, sir, no,' said Dobby, looking suddenly serious. ''Tis part of the house-elf's enslavement, sir. We keeps their secrets and our silence, sir. We upholds the family's honor, and we never speaks ill of them - though Professor Dumbledore told Dobby he does not insist upon this. Professor Dumbledore said we is free to - to-'

Dobby looked suddenly nervous and beckoned Harry closer. Harry bent forward.

Dobby whispered, 'He said we is free to call him a - a barmy old codger if we likes, sir!'

Dobby gave a frightened sort of giggle.

'But Dobby is not wanting to, Harry Potter,' he said, talking normally again, and shaking his head so that his ears flapped. 'Dobby likes Professor Dumbledore very much, sir, and is proud to keep his secrets and our silence for him.'

'But you can say what you like about the Malfoys now?' Harry asked him, grinning. A slightly fearful look came into Dobby's immense eyes.

'Dobby - Dobby could,' he said doubtfully. He squared his small shoulders. 'Dobby could tell Harry Potter that his old masters were - were - bad Dark wizards'.'

Dobby stood for a moment, quivering all over, horror-struck by his own daring - then he rushed over to the nearest table and began banging his head on it very hard, squealing, 'Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!'

Harry seized Dobby by the back of his tie and pulled him away from the table.

'Thank you. Harry Potter, thank you,' said Dobby breathlessly, rubbing his head.

'You just need a bit of practice,' Harry said.

'Practice!' squealed Winky furiously. 'You is ought to be ashamed of yourself, Dobby, talking that way about your masters!'

'They isn't my masters anymore, Winky!' said Dobby defiantly. 'Dobby doesn't care what they think anymore!'

'Oh you is a bad elf, Dobby!' moaned Winky, tears leaking down her face once more. 'My poor Mr. Crouch, what is he doing without Winky? He is needing me, he is needing my help! I is looking after the Crouches all my life, and my mother is doing it before me, and my grandmother is doing it before her…oh what is they saying if they knew Winky was freed? Oh the shame, the shame!' She buried her face in her skirt again and bawled.

'Winky,' said Hermione firmly, 'I'm quite sure Mr. Crouch is getting along perfectly well without you. We've seen him, you know -'

'You is seeing my master?' said Winky breathlessly, raising her tearstained face out of her skirt once more and goggling at Hermione. 'You is seeing him here at Hogwarts?'

'Yes,' said Hermione, 'he and Mr. Bagman are judges in the Triwizard Tournament.'

'Mr. Bagman comes too?' squeaked Winky, and to Arabella's great surprise, and Harry's, Ron's and Hermione's too, by the look on their faces, she looked angry again. 'Mr. Bagman is a bad wizard! A very bad wizard! My master isn't liking him, oh no, not at all!'

'Bagman - bad?' said Arabella.

'Oh yes,' Winky said, nodding her head furiously, 'My master is telling Winky some things! But Winky is not saying…Winky - Winky keeps her master's secrets…'

She dissolved yet again in tears; they could hear her sobbing into her skirt, 'Poor master, poor master, no Winky to help him no more!'

They couldn't get another sensible word out of Winky. They left her to her crying and finished their tea, while Dobby chatted happily about his life as a free elf and his plans for his wages.

'Dobby is going to buy a sweater next, Harry Potter!' he said happily, pointing at his bare chest.

'Tell you what, Dobby,' said Ron, who seemed to have taken a great liking to the elf, 'I'll give you the one my mum knits me this Christmas, I always get one from her. You don't mind maroon, do you?'

Dobby was delighted.

'We might have to shrink it a bit to fit you,' Ron told him, 'but it'll go well with your tea cozy.'

As they prepared to take their leave, many of the surrounding elves pressed in upon them, offering snacks to take back upstairs. Hermione refused, with a pained look at the way the elves kept bowing and curtsying, but Arabella, Harry and Ron loaded their pockets with cream cakes and pies.

'Thanks a lot!' Harry said to the elves, who had all clustered around the door to say good night. 'See you, Dobby!'

'Harry Potter…can Dobby come and see you sometimes, sir?' Dobby asked tentatively.

''Course you can,' said Harry, and Dobby beamed.

'You know what?' said Ron, once he, Hermione, Harry, and Arabella had left the kitchens behind and were climbing the steps into the entrance hall again. 'All these years I've been really impressed with Fred and George, nicking food from the kitchens - well, it's not exactly difficult, is it? They can't wait to give it away!'

'I think this is the best thing that could have happened to those elves, you know,' said Hermione, leading the way back up the marble staircase. 'Dobby coming to work here, I mean. The other elves will see how happy he is, being free, and slowly it'll dawn on them that they want that too!'

'Let's hope they don't look too closely at Winky,' said Harry.

'Oh she'll cheer up,' said Hermione, though she sounded a bit doubtful. 'Once the shock's worn off, and she's got used to Hogwarts, she'll see how much better off she is without that Crouch man.'

'Kreacher'll probably die of a heart attack if I set him free,' said Arabella, shaking her head. 'House-elves get attached to their families. Kreacher's still taking orders from her, even if she's dead. Winky's obviously still attached to Crouch. That sort of attachment doesn't go away easily.'

'Doesn't think much of Bagman, though, does she?' said Harry. 'Wonder what Crouch says at home about him?' ,

'Probably says he's not a very good Head of Department,' said Hermione, 'and let's face it…he's got a point, hasn't he?'

'I'd still rather work for him than old Crouch,' said Ron. 'At least Bagman's got a sense of humor.'

'Don't let Percy hear you saying that,' Hermione said, smiling slightly.

'Yeah, well, Percy wouldn't want to work for anyone with a sense of humor, would he?' said Ron, now starting on a chocolate eclair. 'Percy wouldn't recognize a joke if it danced naked in front of him wearing Dobby's tea cozy.'

**Thank you for reading!**


	18. The Unexpected Task

**disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, just Arabella. Hope you like it!**

The Unexpected Task

'Potter! Weasley! Black! Longbottom! Will the four of you pay attention?!'

Professor McGonagall's irritated voice cracked like a whip through the Transfiguration class on Thursday, and Harry, Ron, Arabella and Neville jumped and looked up.

It was the end of the lesson and the bell was due to ring at any moment. Harry and Ron, Arabella and Neville were having a sword fight with a couple of Fred and George's fake wands at the back of the class. It took a while, but Arabella finally managed to get Neville to join in.

'Now that Potter, Weasley, Black and Longbottom have been kind enough to act their age,' said Professor McGonagall with an angry look as Neville's wand dropped as fell silently to the ground, 'I have something to say to you all.'

'The Yule Ball is approaching - a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above - although you may invite a younger student if you wish -'

Lavender let out a shrill giggle. Parvati nudged her hard in the ribs, her face trying not to giggle. They both looked around at Harry, Professor McGonagall ignored them, which Arabella thought was unfair, as she just told the four of them off.

'Dress robes will be worn,' Professor McGonagall continued, 'and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall. Now then -'

Professor McGonagall stared deliberately around the class.

'The Yule Ball is of course a chance for us all to - er - let our hair down,' she said, in a disapproving voice.

Lavender giggled harder than ever, with her hand pressed hard against her mouth to stifle the sound. Arabella understood what was funny: Professor McGonagall, with her hair in a tight bun, looked as though she had never let her hair down in any sense.

'But that does NOT mean,' Professor McGonagall went on, 'that we will be relaxing the standards of behavior we expect from Hogwarts students. I will be most seriously displeased if a Gryffindor student embarrasses the school in any way.'

The bell rang, and there was the usual scuffle of activity as everyone packed their bags and swung them onto their shoulders.

Professor McGonagall called above the noise, 'Potter - a word, if you please.'

Arabella left the classroom with Neville beside her, walking towards the Great Hall.

'So, Neville,' said Arabella, smiling cheekily at him, 'have somebody in mind for the ball?'

'No,' said Neville, blushing furiously.

'Liar,' said Arabella, her smiled widening. 'Come on, you can tell me. I won't tell anyone, except maybe Hermione, unless you don't want me to. Come on, Neville, I know you have a bet one me going on with Seamus and Ron. You have to tell me, it's your obligation.'

If it was possible, Neville turned redder. He then mumbled something under his breath that she couldn't hear.

'Sorry Neville, dear, didn't quite catch that,' said Arabella, leaning closer.

'Ginny,' whispered Neville.

'Ginny?' spluttered Arabella quite loudly. 'You – Her – What? When? How?'

Neville shrugged, obviously mute from embarrassment. After thinking about it for a bit in her head, it did make sense. They would make a nice couple.

'Are you going to ask her?' said Arabella.

Neville shrugged, looking down as they continued to walk.

'Come on, Neville. What, are you scared for her brothers?' asked Arabella.

Neville shrugged again. Arabella sighed.

'You should really ask her to the ball,' said Arabella, 'and I'll deal with Ron, Fred and George.'

'I don't know,' said Neville, looking nervous. 'What if she doesn't want to go with me?'

'Maybe she does want to go with you,' said Arabella, smiling at him. 'Just ask her. You've got nothing to lose.'

* * *

Arabella had never seen so many people to put their names down to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas. She always did because during Christmas time, Hogwarts was always decorated beautifully and they usually had a plan to plot. This year, however, everyone on the fourth year and above seemed to be staying, and they all seemed to be obsessed with the coming ball – at least all the girls were. Arabella was excited for the ball, but not like the way they all were. They were all comparing notes on what they were going to wear giggling with laughter as boys passed them. It was all nauseating.

'Did you ask her yet?' asked Arabella to Neville as they walked together with Hermione after their potions lesson. Neville was stuck between the two of them.

'Ask who?' said Hermione.

'Ginny,' mumbled Neville, looking really nervous.

'Well, there she is,' said Arabella, pointing down the corridor. 'And she's alone. This is your chance. Go on, you can do it.'

Hermione was nodding in encouragement beside him. Neville took a big gulp before heading towards Ginny. She looked up and smiled at Neville, a bigger one than she's ever given Harry. They were talking as Neville was looking at the ground, while Ginny kept smiling at him. After she finally said a single word, Neville finally looked up at her face. He was grinning widely and they exchanged goodbyes as he walked back towards them.

'She said yes!' said Neville, looking delighted. 'I can't believe it! She actually said yes! I have to go find my dress robes… wonder where I left them…'

Neville kept muttering to himself with happiness and wonder as he walked towards the Gryffindor Tower by himself. Arabella gave out a little chuckle as she watched him walk off. Hermione was smiling.

'I always thought they would make a good couple,' she said. 'We should get going. I'm hungry.'

They walked to the Great Hall, hungry and tired form the whole day. They were smiling and talking about Neville and Ginny before they were stopped right outside the doors.

'Hello Arabella,' said Nikola, actually giving her a smile and his hands were behind his back, hiding something. Krum was standing a bit behind him, looking nervous and not in his sulky mood.

'Hello,' said Krum in a small voice, looking at Hermione. 'Can I talk to you?'

Hermione nodded, walking away with him towards the end of the corridor. Arabella was watching them with her eyebrows raised.

'Is he going to -?'

'Ask her to the Yule Ball?' said Nikola, looking her with a smile. 'He is.'

'Really?' asked Arabella, turning back to him in disbelief. 'Since when does Krum like Hermione?'

'Since he's been hanging around in the library, watching her behind the bookshelves,' said Nikola, smirking.

'Interesting…'

'I would like to ask you something,' said Nikola, bringing his hands out from behind his back. He was holding a long single stem red rose. 'Would do like to go to the Yule Ball with me?'

'Oh,' said Arabella, taken back, though she really should have seen this coming weeks ago. She knew that Nikola was interested in her in the sort of way, and he is nice and handsome. She was hoping Harry would ask her, but he did nothing.

_We're just friends_ whispered a voice that sounded like Harry. That's all she will ever be to him, a friend. She should be able to move on from this little crush.

'Yes,' said Arabella, smiling a bit, taking the rose from his hand. Their hands touched briefly before Nikola took it in his hands. 'I would like to go to the Yule Ball with you.'

'Brilliant,' smirked Nikola. He then leaned in a kiss her. Arabella was caught off guard before returning the kiss. It was a bit forceful and somewhat unpleasant, but she really had nothing to compare it to. It was her first kiss, and Arabella guessed that it would be unpleasant. They moved away from each other as they heard footsteps coming from the end of the corridor. They looked there and saw that it was Hermione and Krum, both with smiles on their faces.

'I shall see you later, Arabella,' said Nikola, kissing the back of her hand and walking away with Krum, a smirk on his face.

'I'm guessing you said yes?' Arabella asked Hermione.

'I did,' said Hermione, smiling. 'You?'

'Said yes, too,' said Arabella. She thought that there might have been butterflies in her stomach, but it was empty.

* * *

The last week of term became lively as it progressed. Rumors about the Yule Ball were flying everywhere, though Arabella didn't believe half of them. For instance, Dumbledore had brought eight hundred barrels of mulled mead from Madam Rosmerta. It seemed to be fact, however, that he booked the Weird Sister. She couldn't wait to see Kirley Duke, the lead guitarist.

Some of the teachers had given up on teaching when their minds were on something else. Professor Flitwick allowed them to play games, and spent most of the time talking to Harry about his Summoning Charm he used during the First Task. Other teachers weren't so generous. Professor McGonagall and Mad-Eye kept them working until the last second of their classes, and Snape informed them that he would be testing them on poison antidotes during the last lesson of the term.

'Evil, he is,' Ron said bitterly that night in the Gryffindor common room. 'Springing a test on us the last day. Ruining the last bit of term with a whole load of studying.'

'Mmm…you're not exactly straining yourself, though, are you?' said Hermione, looking at him over the top of her Potions notes. Ron was busy building a card castle out of his Exploding Snap pack - a much more interesting pastime than with Muggle cards, because of the chance that the whole thing would blow up at any second.

'It's Christmas, Hermione,' said Harry lazily; he was rereading Flying with the Cannons for the tenth time in an armchair near the fire. Hermione looked severely over at him too.

'I'd have thought you'd be doing something constructive, Harry, even if you don't want to learn your antidotes!'

'Like what?' Harry said as he watched Joey Jenkins of the Cannons belt a Bludger toward a Ballycastle Bats Chaser.

'That egg!' Hermione hissed.

'Come on, Hermione, I've got till February the twenty-fourth,' Harry said.

'But it might take weeks to work it out!' said Hermione. 'You're going to look a real idiot if everyone else knows what the next task is and you don't!'

'Leave him alone, Hermione,' said Arabella, watching Ron.

Ron placed the last two cards on top of the castle and the whole lot blew up, singeing his eyebrows.

'Nice look Ron… goes well with your dress robes, that will.'

It was Fred and George. They sat down at the table with Arabella, Harry, Ron, and Hermione as Ron felt how much damage had been done.

'Ron, can we borrow Pigwidgeon?' George asked.

'No, he's off delivering a letter,' said Ron. 'Why?'

'Because George wants to invite him to the ball,' said Fred sarcastically.

'Because we want to send a letter, you stupid great prat,' said George.

'Who d'you two keep writing to, eh?' said Ron.

'Nose out, Ron, or I'll burn that for you too,' said Fred, waving his wand threateningly.

'So…you lot got dates for the ball yet?'

'Nope,' said Ron.

'Well, you'd better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone,' said Fred.

'Who're you going with, then?' said Ron.

'Angelina,' said Fred promptly, without a trace of embarrassment.

'What?' said Ron, taken aback. 'You've already asked her?'

'Good point,' said Fred. He turned his head and called across the common room, 'Oi! Angelina!'

Angelina, who had been chatting with Alicia Spinnet near the fire, looked over at him.

'What?' she called back.

'Want to come to the ball with me?'

Angelina gave Fred an appraising sort of look.

'All right, then,' she said, and she turned back to Alicia and carried on chatting with a bit of a grin on her face.

'There you go,' said Fred to Harry and Ron, 'piece of cake.'

He got to his feet, yawning, and said, 'We'd better use a school owl then, George, come on…'

They left. Ron stopped feeling his eyebrows and looked across the smoldering wreck of his card castle at Harry.

'We should get a move on, you know…ask someone. He's right. We don't want to end up with a pair of trolls.'

'Sorry? A pair of what?' said Arabella, looking just as annoyed as Hermione.

'Well - you know,' said Ron, shrugging. 'I'd rather go alone than with – with Eloise Midgen, say.'

'Her acne's loads better lately - and she's really nice!'

'Her nose is off-center,' said Ron.

'Oh I see,' Hermione said, bristling. 'So basically, you're going to take the best looking girl who'll have you, even if she's completely horrible?'

'Er - yeah, that sounds about right,' said Ron.

'I'm going to bed,' Hermione snapped, and she and Arabella swept off toward the girls' staircase without another word.

* * *

Entering the common room, Harry looked around, and to his surprise he saw Ron sitting ashen faced in a distant corner. Arabella and Ginny was sitting with him, talking to him in a low, soothing voice.

'What's up, Ron?' said Harry, joining them.

Ron looked up at Harry, a sort of blind horror in his face.

'Why did I do it?' he said wildly. 'I don't know what made me do it!'

'What?' said Harry.

'He - er - just asked Fleur Delacour to go to the ball with him,' said Ginny. She looked as though she was fighting back a smile, but she kept patting Ron's arm sympathetically.

'You what?' said Harry.

'I don't know what made me do it!' Ron gasped again. 'What was I playing at? There were people - all around - I've gone mad - everyone watching! I was just walking past her in the entrance hall - she was standing there talking to Diggory - and it sort of came over me - and I asked her!'

Ron moaned and put his face in his hands. He kept talking, though the words were barely distinguishable.

'She looked at me like I was a sea slug or something. Didn't even answer. And then - I dunno - I just sort of came to my senses and ran for it.'

'She's part veela,' said Harry. 'You were right – her grandmother was one. It wasn't your fault, I bet you just walked past when she was turning in the old charm for Diggory and got a blast of it.'

'This is mad,' said Ron. 'We're the only ones left who haven't got anyone - well, except Neville. Hey - guess who he asked? Hermione!'

'No he did not!' said Ginny hotly.

'He never asked Hermione,' said Arabella, shaking her head. 'He has a date.'

'No I'm really miserable,' mumbled Ron. Ginny hit him over the head.

Just then Hermione climbed in through the portrait hole.

'Why weren't you at dinner?' she said, coming over to join them.

'Ron asked Fleur Delacour to the Yule Ball and, well she didn't answer, but it's a no,' said Arabella.

Hermione snorted in surprise.

'All the good-looking ones taken, Ron?' said Hermione loftily. 'Eloise Midgen starting to look quite pretty now, is she? Well, I'm sure you'll find someone somewhere who'll have you.'

But Ron was staring at Hermione as though suddenly seeing her in a whole new light.

'Hermione, you are a girl…'

'Oh well spotted,' she said acidly.

'Well - you can come with one of us! And Arabella, can come with the other one!'

'No, I can't,' snapped Hermione.

'Oh come on,' he said impatiently, 'we need partners, we're going to look really stupid if we haven't got any, everyone else has…'

'I can't come with you,' said Hermione, now blushing, 'because I'm already going with someone.'

'What?' said Ron. 'Who?'

'Just because it's taken you three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean no one else has spotted I'm a girl!'

Ron stared at her. Then he grinned again.

'Okay, okay, we know you're a girl,' he said. 'That do? Will you come now?'

'I've already told you!' Hermione said very angrily. 'I'm going with someone else!'

And she stormed off toward the girls' dormitories again.

'She's lying,' said Ron flatly, watching her go.

'She's not,' said Arabella.

'Who is it then?' said Ron sharply.

'I'm not telling you, it's her business,' said Arabella.

'Right,' said Ron, who looked extremely put out, 'this is getting stupid. Ginny, who you going with?'

'I'm going with Neville,' said Ginny, trying to fight off the blush and the smile coming on her face. 'I think I'll go and have dinner,' she said, and she got up and walked off the portrait hole with a grin on her face.

'Arabella, are you going to the ball with anyone?' asked Harry softly.

'Yeah,' said Arabella, unable to look him in the eye. 'I'm going with Nikola.'

'Nikola?' asked Harry angrily. 'Why are you going with _him_?'

'What's wrong with Nikola?' said Arabella, matching his tone. Ron was looking nervously between the two of them.

'Nothing,' said Harry bitterly with a scowl. 'Nothing at all.'

'I'm going to bed. Good night,' said Arabella, standing up quickly and walking towards the girl's dormitory without another glance backward.

'What's got into them?' Ron demanded.

But Harry had just seen Parvati and Lavender come in through the portrait hole. The time had come for drastic action.

'Wait here,' he said to Ron, and he stood up, walked straight up to Parvati, and said, 'Parvati? Will you go to the ball with me?'

'What about Arabella?' said Parvati.

'She's going with Nikola,' said Harry, trying to make it sound like it didn't bother him.

Parvati looked stunned.

'Really? That cute Bulgarian?' she said.

'Yes,' said Harry through his teeth.

'All right then, I'll go with you,' she said finally, blushing furiously.

'Thanks,' said Harry, in relief. 'Lavender - will you go with Ron?'

'She's going with Seamus,' said Parvati, and the pair of them giggled harder than ever.

Harry sighed.

'Can't you think of anyone who'd go with Ron?' he said, lowering his voice so that Ron wouldn't hear.

'What about Hermione?' said Parvati.

'She's going with someone else.'

Parvati looked astonished.

'Ooooh - who?' she said keenly.

Harry shrugged. 'No idea,' he said. 'So what about Ron?'

'Well…' said Parvati slowly, 'I suppose my sister might…Padma, you know…in Ravenclaw. I'll ask her if you like.'

'Yeah, that would be great,' said Harry. 'Let me know, will you?'

And he went back over to Ron, feeling that this ball was a lot more trouble than it was worth, and hoping very much that Padma Patil's nose was dead center and that Nikola somehow jumped off a cliff.

**Thank you for reading!**


	19. The Yule Ball

**disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, just Arabella. Hope you like it!**

The Yule Ball

Despite the very heavy load of homework that the fourth years had been given for the holidays, Arabella was in no mood to work and spent the week leading up to Christmas enjoying herself as fully as possible with everyone else. Gryffindor Tower was hardly less crowded now than during term-time.

The house-elves down in the kitchen were outdoing themselves with a series of rich, warming stews and savory puddings, and only Fleur Delacour seemed to be able to find anything to complain about.

'It is too 'eavy, all zis 'Ogwarts food,' they heard her saying grumpily as they left the Great Hall behind her one evening (Ron skulking behind Harry, keen not to be spotted by Fleur). 'I will not fit into my dress robes!'

'Oooh there's a tragedy,' Hermione snapped as Fleur went out into the entrance hall. 'She really thinks a lot of herself, that one, doesn't she?'

'Hermione - who are you going to the ball with?' said Ron.

He kept springing this question on her, hoping to startle her into a response by asking it when she least expected it. However, Hermione merely frowned and said, 'I'm not telling you, you'll just make fun of me.'

'You're joking, Weasley!' said Malfoy, behind them. 'You're not telling me someone's asked that to the ball? Not the long-molared Mudblood?'

Arabella, Harry and Ron whipped around, but Hermione said loudly, waving to somebody over Malfoy's shoulder, 'Hello, Professor Moody!'

Malfoy went pale and jumped backward, looking wildly around for Moody, but he was still up at the staff table, finishing his stew.

'Twitchy little ferret, aren't you, Malfoy?' said Hermione scathingly, and they went up the marble staircase laughing heartily.

'Hermione,' said Ron, looking sideways at her, suddenly frowning, 'your teeth…'

'What about them?' she said.

'Well, they're different…I've just noticed…'

'Of course they are - did you expect me to keep those fangs Malfoy gave me?'

'No, I mean, they're different to how they were before he put that hex on you…They're all…straight and - and normal-sized.'

Hermione suddenly smiled very mischievously, and Arabella noticed it too. It was a very different smile from the one he remembered.

'Well…when I went up to Madam Pomfrey to get them shrunk, she held up a mirror and told me to stop her when they were back to how they normally were,' she said. 'And I just…let her carry on a bit.' She smiled even more widely. 'Mum and Dad won't be too pleased. I've been trying to persuade them to let me shrink them for ages, but they wanted me to carry on with my braces. You know, they're dentists, they just don't think teeth and magic should - look! Pigwidgeons back!'

Ron's tiny owl was twittering madly on the top of the icicle-laden banisters, a scroll of parchment tied to his leg. People passing him were pointing and laughing, and a group of third-year girls paused and said, 'Oh look at the weeny owl! Isn't he cute?'

'Hermione,' whispered Arabella as they watched Ron picking up Pigwidgeon. 'I think I'm in love with you.'

'I love you too, Arabella,' said Hermione, smiling a bit guilty and patting Arabella's arm a bit.

'Stupid little feathery git!' Ron hissed, with Pigwidgeon in his hands. 'You bring letters to the addressee! You don't hang around showing off!'

Pigwidgeon hooted happily, his head protruding over Ron's fist. The third-year girls all looked very shocked.

'Clear off!' Ron snapped at them, waving the fist holding Pigwidgeon, who hooted more happily than ever as he soared through the air. 'Here - take it, Harry,' Ron added in an undertone as the third-year girls scuttled away looking scandalized. He pulled off Sirius's replies off Pigwidgeons leg. Harry pocketed it, and they hurried back to Gryffindor Tower to read it.

Everyone in the common room was much too busy in letting off more holiday steam to observe what anyone else was up to. Ron, Harry, Arabella and Hermione sat apart from everyone else by a dark window that was gradually filling up with snow, and Harry read out:

_Dear Harry, _

_Congratulations on getting past the Horntail. Whoever put your name in that goblet shouldn't be feeling too happy right now! I was going to suggest a Conjunctivitis Curse, as a dragon's eyes are its weakest point – _

'That's what Krum did!' Hermione whispered

– But your way was better, I'm impressed.

_Don't get complacent, though, Harry. You've only done one task; whoever put you in for the tournament's got plenty more opportunity if they're trying to hurt you. Keep your eyes open -particularly when the person we discussed is around and concentrate on keeping yourself out of trouble. Keep in touch, I still want to hear about anything unusual. _

_Sirius_

'He sounds exactly like Moody,' said Harry quietly, tucking the letter away again inside him robes. ''Constant vigilance!' You'd think I walk around with my eyes shut, banging off the walls… Go on, read yours Arabella…'

_Dear Arabella, _

_Me and Moony are in hiding, sort off. You know where, don't worry about us. Keep an eye out for anything unusual, and watch out for Karkaroff if you can. Go straight to Dumbledore if anything strange happens. Keep an eye out for anything and Karkaroff, I wouldn't rule him out as a suspect anytime soon. Moony sends his love. And we all need to have a talk about this Bulgarian boy. You're too young to be dating. Keep in touch. I miss you. _

_Sirius_

'You know where he is?' asked Hermione, astonished.

'I don't know,' said Arabella, re-reading the letter for any more clues, but came up with nothing. She kept re-reading the note and muttering to herself about where they could be hiding. Harry and Ron were playing chess while Hermione watched.

'NOOOO,' said Arabella after about ten minutes of mindlessly muttering to herself. Her eyes were wide and her mouth wide open in a perfect circle. If it wasn't for the severity of the situation, she would probably be laughing at herself.

'What happened?' said Harry, alarmed.

'They're – they're in – shit!' said Arabella, face palming. She couldn't reveal where Sirius and Remus were hiding, no matter how much she wanted to at the moment.

'What?' said Ron, worried. Hermione was watching her with a concerned look.

'I can't tell you, but, like, it's pretty bad, but nothing you should be worried about, but something _I _should be worried about,' said Arabella in a rush.

'What?' said Harry, Ron and Hermione, confused.

'Er, nothing, nothing – just, continued on with your game,' said Arabella, nervously with a reassuring smile, though it wasn't. Harry and Ron resumed their game with Hermione watching, though they kept giving her worried looks at the corner of their eyes.

They were at Grimmauld Place, the house Arabella inherited when her grandmother, Walburga Black, died back in 1985. Arabella has met her grandmother a total of two times, once when it was the custody hearing in the Ministry of Magic and another in Grimmauld Place. She initially wanted to know her relatives, so Remus let Arabella visit Walburga, and what a HUGE mistake that was. Her foul grandmother kept going on and on about how low werewolves are and how they should be hunted down and executed. Thankfully Remus wasn't there at the time and Andy dropped her off for only two hours. _Two hours too long if you ask me_ Arabella thought. She then went on about pure-blood supremacy and how Voldemort had the right idea in getting rid of Muggle-borns and having pure-bloods in charge. She then mentioned about how Sirius was a disappointment and a disgrace to the Black name, and how low of a wizard her mother, Kassandra, was. But Walburga didn't say Kassandra or your mother, she said, 'that swine my son married.' Arabella wanted to throw the tea cup she was holding at her ugly, old, twisted little face, but managed to keep her temper intact. She then showed Arabella her room that she made for her. It was horrible. The walls were green in colour with snakes in a darker green colour. The bed was abnormally large with black coverings that made it look unwelcoming. On one side of the wall were paper clippings of Voldemort from the Daily Prophet and a couple pictures of Death Eaters. Walburga apparently got it from Regulus Black's room. She thought it would inspire Arabella into going down the 'right path.' Arabella had no idea what her grandmother was thinking when she decorated her room. Arabella will never be able to live with her, nor would she ever want to. She then showed picture of Bellatrix and Narcissa to Arabella.

_'They are the perfect example of who you should be when you grow up,' said Walburga in a stern voice, peering down at the photo album with Arabella beside her. 'Narcissa married a respectable pure-blood and has a son to carry on the Malfoy name. Bellatrix also married a respectable pure-blood, Rodolphus Lestrange, and they joined the Dark Lord together, serving him as husband and wife. They are what you should be, not like Andromeda, that filthy little blood-traitor. Never marry a Mudblood Hufflepuff, you would never do that. You'll be in Slytherin, marry into a proper family, and aid in the Dark Lord, my little Slytherin princess.'_

Arabella was never more relieved to see Andy in her whole life until that moment. All she wanted to do at that moment was to get as far away as possible from Walburga and Grimmauld Place. Walburga was a nightmare and Grimmauld Place was no better. The first thing Arabella said when she got home to Remus was, 'I_ don't want to know my family. They're a nightmare. Don't ever take my back there again. Ever!'_

If Sirius and Remus were hiding there, then her hearts went out to both of them. She would rather be anywhere else in the world than in Grimmauld Place. Arabella shuddered.

'You okay?' asked Hermione, alternating between watching Arabella and the chess game.

'Yeah, just remembered something,' said Arabella, shuddering again.

* * *

Arabella woke up on Christmas day with a big smile on her face. _Presents!_ She screamed in her head. Grabbing her pillow, she made her way over to Hermione quietly. Their other roommates weren't there, probably at breakfast or something. She held the pillow above her head, ready to strike when –

'Don't even think about it,' said Hermione, opening her eyes with her hand clutching her wand. 'I'll hex you if you do it. You know I will.'

'Sour pus,' said Arabella, pouting and going back to her bed. 'Anyway, Presents!'

Hermione had gotten her a book called Quidditch Team of Britain and Ireland; Ron, bag of Dungbombs; Remus got her excellent books called Practical Defensive Magic and its Use Against the Dark Arts, which had amazing moving colour illustrations of all the counterjinxes and hexes it described. It was going to be very useful in the future. Sirius gave her a pocket knife with the handle in black. _Just in case. Merry Christmas! _was the note attached to it. Hagrid gave her a box of Chocolate Frogs. Mrs Weasley got her a new green jumper and homemade mince pies. Fred, George and Ginny got her a box of Zooko's best products. Nymph got her a polishing broomstick kit. Andy and Ted got her a necklace from their trip to Italy. Harry got her a picture of the four of them in a simple brown framing and one of just the two of them in a blue frame. She liked the one with Hermione, Ron Harry and her, but favoured the one with just Harry and her. Their arms were around each other's shoulders as Harry was holding up two fingers, making the bunny sign behind her head, while Arabella kept messing up his hair. She vaguely remembered taking this sometime before their second year when they were staying at the Weasleys.

'ARABELLA!' yelled a voice from the common room.

'What was that?' said Hermione.

'I think it was the twins,' said Arabella, getting up and moving towards the door with Hermione. They went to the common room to find Fred and George, smiling with excitement. Arabella saw Harry and Ron coming from their dormitory, wondering what was going on. As soon as the twins saw Arabella, they got down on their knees and started to bow to her chanting, 'We're not worthy, we're not worthy…'

'I take it, you got my present then?' said Arabella, smiling in amusement.

Fred and George got up and gave her a hug, sandwiching her in between them.

'I love you,' George whispered loudly, practically almost in tears and rubbing his right cheek on top of her head.

'You can have whatever you want from our store for free!' said Fred, giving her sloppy kisses on her forehead.

'Please, I need air,' said Arabella in a hoarse voice. Fred and George let go of her, and beamed at all of them.

'What did you do now?' said Hermione, worried.

'I gave them a colour bomb,' said Arabella casually.

'What?!' said Harry and Ron.

'What is that?' said Hermione.

'Only the greatest present ever!' said George, smiling. 'It turns the whole room into colourful while the people in said room are covered in black paint.'

'Have you completely lost your mind?!' said Ron, horrified at the idea of the twins having it.

'Relax,' said Arabella, too laid back for their liking. 'It took me three years to make it, and they've got to do it themselves. This is just a sample and it's the only one I'm going to give them.'

Fred and George walked back to their dormitory, muttering between themselves and holding the colour bomb like it was some delicate flower.

'You've doomed us all,' whispered Harry.

'Stop being such a dramatic daisy,' said Arabella. 'It'll be a while before they figure out how to make it. Relax.'

* * *

They went down to breakfast together, then spent most of the morning in Gryffindor Tower, where everyone was enjoying their presents, then returned to the Great Hall for lunch.

They went out onto the grounds in the afternoon. Hermione chose to watch Arabella, Harry, Seamus, Dean, Neville and the Weasleys' snowball fight rather than join in. It was Arabella, Harry, Ron, and Neville against Fred, George, Seamus and Dean. So far, Arabella's team (Ron would be saying that it was really _his _team) was winning, but at five o'clock Hermione said that the two of them had to go back to the castle to get ready for the ball.

'Why do we need three hours to get ready?' asked Arabella, doubtfully as a large snowball from Dean hit her at the side of her head. 'I know that came from you, Thomas!'

'Because we're getting ready with Ginny,' said Hermione.

'That's not an answer!' yelled Arabella, making a big snowball and throwing it towards Dean, but it hit Fred's face, dead centre.

'Come on,' said Hermione, rolling her eyes and grabbing on to Arabella's right arm.

'No! But I was winning!' said Arabella, struggling to get out of Hermione's hold. She grabbed on to Harry's arm, but somehow, Harry, ho matter how much he tried, wasn't as strong as Hermione because he started to move with them. Arabella eventually let go of Harry and got Hermione to do the same. She made one last snowball, which hit Dean on the face, and walked peacefully with Hermione back to the castle.

'Who're you going with?' Ron yelled after Hermione, just she just waved back at them.

* * *

Three hours, that's how long it took for them to get ready. Arabella changed into her dress, managed to get her hair in the way she wanted to, then asked Ginny to help her put on some make up. Then end result was better than before. She was wearing the red dress, which showed most, if not, all the scars on her arms, with her hair down that ended in the midsection of her back in simple curls. She was also wearing the necklace Andy and Ted got her and her wand was attached to her lower right thigh.

Ginny already went downstairs to meet Neville. She looked beautiful with her straight red hair and beautiful green dress. The only other person with her was Hermione, who was nervously pacing before her.

'Come on,' said Arabella. 'Krum's waiting.'

Arabella and Hermione went to the common room, which was full of people wearing different colours than their usual uniforms. Arabella looked around for Harry and Ron, Hermione doing the same, but they weren't there.

'Wow,' said George. 'Don't you two look lovely? Don't they Fred?'

'Lovely indeed George,' said Fred, smiling.

'Don't want Angelina to hear that,' said Hermione.

'Come on, let's go,' said Arabella. 'We have to go meet them.'

The entrance hall was packed with students, all waiting around for eight o'clock when the door to the Great Hall would be thrown open.

'You go on,' said Hermione nervously, standing back away from the staircase.

'But –'

'Just go,' said Hermione firmly. 'I'll wait until the doors are open.'

'Fine,' said Arabella reluctantly as she continued down the staircase. At the foot of it she saw Nikola. He was wearing a nice set of dress robes with his hair slicked back. He was standing next to Krum, making small chit-chat. He looked up just as she was half way and smiled, then slowly smirked as she got closer. She saw Harry a few feet away from them and was practically glaring daggers at Nikola.

'You look very beautiful,' said Nikola, kissing the back of her hand.

'Thank you,' said Arabella, blushing. She turned to Krum, 'She'll be down in a moment. She's just waiting for the doors to open.'

Krum nodded in understanding, then moved away to give them some privacy.

'You do look beautiful,' said Nikola, his smirk widening.

'Thank you,' said Arabella. 'So do you.'

Nikola nodded as Professor McGonagall's voice called, 'Champions over here, please!'

Harry and Parvati walked forward, as did Fleur Delacour, Roger Davies, Cedric Diggory, Cho Chang, Victor Krum and Hermione, who was looking a bit nervous. Most people were looking at her like they haven't seen her before. Parvati was gazing at her in disbelief. When the front door to the Great hall opened, some girls stalked past her, glaring at Hermione with the deepest of loathing. Pansy Parkinson gaped at her as she walked by with Malfoy, who didn't even come up with an insult to throw at her. Ron walked right past Hermione without looking at her. Arabella and Nikola walked past the champions and Arabella gave Hermione a small smile.

Once everyone was settled in the Hall, the champions entered and walked up towards a large round table at the top of the Hall, where the judges were sitting. Arabella was sitting with Nikola and some of his friends. Some of them didn't speak English but managed to catch some words that did not sound flattering by their tone of voice. She tried to make some conversation with the person sitting beside her, but he wasn't looking at her, so she gave up. Nikola was talking with one of his friends, and wouldn't look at her.

Arabella looked at her menu then looked down at her plate and said, 'Lamb chops!'

And the lamb chops appeared. The rest of the table followed soon after her, but still kept ignoring her. Arabella looked around the Hall. Harry looked bored, Ron was staring at Hermione with narrow eyes, Ginny seemed to be enjoying herself with Neville, and Hermione looked happy. She then looked at Nikola, who was still talking to his friend.

When all the food had been consumed, Dumbledore stood up and asked the student to do the same. Then, with a wave of his wand, all the tables zoomed back along the walls leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised platform into existence along the right wall. A set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello, and some bagpipes were set upon it.

The Weird Sisters now trooped up onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause; they were all extremely hairy and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn. Arabella saw Harry trip over his dress robes as he stood up. The Weird Sisters picked up their instruments, and struck a slow, mournful tune.

The champions were revolving slowly on the spot as the music kept playing and soon many other people started to dance too. Arabella saw Ginny and Neville dancing nearby, though Ginny kept wincing as Neville accidently stepped on her toes. Dumbledore was waltzing with Madam Maxime, who moved gracefully for a woman who was very tall. Nikola's friends were dancing and it was just the two of them. She kept waiting for him to ask her to dance, but he said nothing.

'Would you like to dance?' she asked, getting impatient as the Weird Sisters were starting to play a new song, which was her favorite.

'Not really,' he said, shrugging. 'Would you like to go outside?'

'Um, sure,' said Arabella, taken back. What was so interesting outside? The Weird Sisters were at Hogwarts!

They managed to slip out the doors without being seen by any of the teachers. As soon as they got outside, Nikola pulled her closer to him and placed his left hand to low from her waist.

'It's beautiful, isn't it? The stars?' he said, taking something from his inside pockets and taking a big gulp. Something told Arabella that wasn't pumpkin juice.

'Sure, I guess,' said Arabella, actually looking up.

There was nothing there. They were standing against the wall of Hogwarts, watching the star-less sky as Nikola took another gulp of whatever he was drinking. He then started to move his hands and brought his face really close to her before kissing her. It really wasn't pleasant. It was forcefully and uncomfortable, like last time, but worse. He kept moving his hand everywhere, in a groping manner and tried to open her mouth with his tongue. She could smell the alcohol coming from him.

Arabella tried to push him away, but he stronger than her. Nikola then started to kiss down her neck, which made Arabella squirm a bit.

'Please, stop,' whimpered Arabella, but he didn't. He kissed her on the lips again; probably think that's what she wanted.

Arabella had enough of this. She slowly lifted her right thigh without him noticing and took out her wand.

BANG!

With a swift wave, Nikola was push away from her and on the ground, looking shocked. This time, it was Arabella's turn to smirk. She took a look at him and started to walk away. She barely made it five feet before he roughly grabbed onto her and pulled her back to him.

'Mine,' he growled. He reeked of alcohol and was mumbling nonsense under his breath.

'Not yours,' said Arabella, getting free of his grip and walking away. 'Never yours.'

'And you'll never be Potters,' he said, smirking nastily.

'What?' said Arabella, stopping and turning around.

'I see the way you look at him,' said Nikola, looking quite foul. 'He'll never go for you. Honestly, who you do you think you are? You're just a broken little girl with ugly scars on her arms. I asked you to the ball out of pity; because that's all people see when they look at you. Pity.'

Arabella was staring at him, never feeling so low in her life. Nikola smirked again, and resumed kissing her neck.

Arabella drew back her right arm and punched him in the stomach.

'Oomph,' groaned Nikola, backing away.

Before he could do anything, Arabella pointed her wand at his mouth and said 'Scourgify!'

Pink bubbles started to form in his mouth, and he was choking a bit.

'You're mouth needed a bit of washing of you ask me,' said Arabella coldly. She stood up straight and said, 'I am Arabella Kassandra Black, daughter of Sirius and Kassandra Black, the blood of ancient wizards run through my veins, and I will not be degraded by a foul, pathetic excuse of a _boy_ like you. You will never come near me again, and you will never come near my friends. If you do, I'll show you how much of a Black I really am.'

Arabella turned around and walked back inside Hogwarts where she reattached her wand back to her thigh and then walked into the Great Hall. She spotted Harry and Ron sitting at a table, looking quite miserable. Ron stood up to leave and Harry did the same before he spotted Arabella sitting down at another table with an unopened bottle of butterbear.

'Hey,' said Harry, taking the seat next to her.

'Hey,' mumbled Arabella, taking a big gulp of the butterbear. 'Enjoying yourself?'

'No,' said Harry, shaking his head. 'You?'

'The foulest time I have ever had at Hogwarts,' spat out Arabella. 'Stupid, freaking Nikola. I hope he jumps off a cliff or goes back to Bulgaria, so I never have to see his face again.'

Harry looked taken back. 'What happened?'

'He started to kiss me weirdly, then said some shit,' said Arabella, feeling quite miserable herself.

'He did?' said Harry, sounding mad and was about to get up to go find Nikola and set him straight, but Arabella grabbed onto his arm.

'Don't worry,' she said. 'I took care of it.'

'What did you do?'

'Washed his mouth, nearly choked him I think,' said Arabella. 'Then said some things that made me sound tuff, but looking back at it now, it sounds a bit ridiculous.'

'What did you say?'

'I think, at one point, I said that the ancient wizard's blood runs through my veins,' said Arabella, laughing a bit, Harry joined in too. 'Well, I was trying to sound tough.'

'I sure you were very convincing,' said Harry, offering her a smile.

Arabella smiled back before turning her eyes on to the dance floor. There weren't many people there now. The crowd seemed to have disappeared as there were only a couple students in the Great Hall and only one teacher watching them. The Weird Sisters weren't on stage now and the music was coming from an old record player, playing some Muggle songs. Ginny was sitting at a table, talking to some boy that was clearly not Neville.

_I didn't even get to dance _Arabella thought. _The only ball I'm ever going to go to and I didn't even get to dance. Stupid, freakin' Nikola. I hope you jump off a cliff somewhere. _

'Want to dance?' asked Harry, watching her.

Arabella turned back to him, shocked. 'You actually want to dance?'

Harry shrugged. 'Sure, why not?'

'Okay,' said Arabella, taking his hand and walking towards the dance floor.

Harry seemed more relaxed than she saw him earlier dancing with Parvati, maybe because nobody was looking at him while dancing. He placed his hands gently on her waists and she did the same on his shoulders. They swayed a little to the music. It was Frank Sinatra singing My Funny Valentine.

'You look really nice by the way,' said Harry, his neck a bit red. 'Really, really nice.'

'No every other day of the year, I look like an ugly toad?' teased Arabella.

'No,' spluttered Harry. 'That's not what –'

'I know, I'm just teasing,' said Arabella. Harry narrowed his eyes at her. 'You clean up nice, Potter.'

'I do what I can,' said Harry, shrugging with a pleased smile at himself.

'Thank you for the gift, by the way. I really like it,' said Arabella, after a few moments of silence passing between them.

'No problem,' said Harry. 'I like yours too. It's actually pretty funny.'

Arabella got him a book called _How to be friends with Dragons 101_ and some Quidditch gloves made out of leather.

'I thought you might like it,' said Arabella, smiling.

'Can I ask you something?' said Harry, looking a bit uneasy about what he was going to ask her. Arabella nodded.

'Why did you go with Nikola?'

'Because the person I really wanted to go with didn't ask me,' said Arabella, giving him a sharp look.

'The person I wanted to go with went out with somebody else,' said Harry, returning the look.

'Well, aren't we just lucky,' said Arabella, sighing.

'Very lucky,' mumbled Harry.

They continued to dance for another two songs. Neither one of them moved away from each other, but seemed to move closer. Arabella's head was on Harry's shoulder with her arms wrapped around his neck, and Harry's arms were wrapped around her waist, his head also on her shoulder.

Harry then gave out a small chuckle.

'What?' asked Arabella, quite happy with their positions.

'Nothing, I was just thinking about the summer before our second year, the prank war with Fred and George,' said Harry, smiling.

'That was a really good summer,' said Arabella, smiling fondly at the memory. 'Fred and George with blond hair –'

'-and blue skin.'

They laughed together at the image of the twins looking quite silly.

Arabella was now watching Harry. _He looks so relaxed and carefree. And his eyes are truly wonderful and bright. _

'What?' said Harry, also staring at her.

'Nothing,' said Arabella, shaking her head. 'It's your eyes, they're quite beautiful. Really brought out when you laugh.'

'Thanks,' said Harry, shrugging slyly.

'Don't be full of yourself, Mr Potter,' said Arabella.

'I'm not full of myself,' said Harry, huffing. 'Quite the opposite actually.'

'Really? Is that so?' asked Arabella, raising her eyebrows and leaning closer.

'Really,' said Harry, smiling.

Arabella didn't know what came over her, but due to something going on in her brain, she leaned in and kissed Harry, right on the lips. Harry was shocked for about a second before wrapping his arms tighter around her waist and returned the kiss.

Arabella suddenly realised what she was doing, snapped open her eyes, and moved away from Harry.

'I'm sorry,' stumbled Arabella, taking a step back. 'I didn't – I'm so –'

Arabella quickly turned around and ran out of the Great Hall. Harry stood there for a moment, unable to comprehend what just happened, but then took off, following her.

**Thank you for reading! I honestly didn't know where I was going when I was writing the thing Arabella said to Nikola. In my head it sounded tuff. The dress should be on my account page. **


	20. Something To Look Forward To

**disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, just Arabella. Hope you like it!**

Something To Look Forward To

Despite the fact that Arabella was wearing a dress, she was faster than Harry. She was running towards the Gryffindor Tower with Harry a few feet away from her. Arabella yelled out 'Fairy lights!' just as Harry was about to reach her and she entered the common room, Harry behind her. All the things Harry wanted to tell her disappeared as they both stood in the common room with Ron and Hermione, standing ten feet away from each other and shouting.

'Well, if you don't like it, you know what the solution is, don't you?' yelled Hermione; her hair was coming down out of its elegant bun now, and her face was screwed up in anger.

'Oh yeah?' Ron yelled back. 'What's that?'

'Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!'

Ron mouthed soundlessly like a goldfish out of water as Hermione turned on her heel and stormed up the girls' staircase to bed. Ron turned to look at Arabella and Harry.

'Well,' he sputtered, looking thunderstruck, 'well - that just proves – completely missed the point -'

Arabella and Harry didn't say anything except watch Ron walk up the stairs to his dormitory. As soon as they heard the door close, Arabella tried to walk away but Harry held on to her hand.

'We have to talk,' said Harry, looking at her, but her eyes were on the floor.

'We don't have to do anything,' said Arabella, nervously and taking a couple deep breaths.

'We have to talk about what just happened,' said Harry firmly.

'No we don't,' said Arabella stubbornly. 'It meant nothing.'

'It obviously meant something.'

'Or it could have meant nothing.'

'So you're saying that if I kissed you right now, it would mean nothing?' said Harry, sceptically.

'Yes,' lied Arabella.

Harry cupped her face gently, leaned in and gave her a soft kiss. Arabella tried to stand still and not react, but soon found herself returning the kiss. She was gripping his sleeves, pulling him closer. This was a better kiss than the ones Nikola gave her. Nikola's were unpleasant and forceful. Harry's were nice, pleasant; it brought a shiver up her spine and put her into a state of blissfulness. If only Harry was the first person she kissed, instead of Nikola.

They were both so caught up in the kiss, that they didn't notice the portrait door open and a single person entering the common room.

'What the -?' said the voice. Harry and Arabella both jumped away from each other and looked at the intruder. It was Neville.

'Neville!' gasped Arabella. 'What did you see?'

'Um… you two… you know…' said Neville nervously, and then make a kissing noise. If it wasn't for the embarrassment going on around the room, Arabella would probably be laughing at what Neville just did.

'We weren't kissing,' said Arabella, in a quiet voice.

'But you were,' said Neville, smiling a bit.

'Listen, Neville, can you not tell anyone?' asked Harry, noticing Arabella's discomfort. 'Just don't mention it to anyone, please.'

'Sure,' said Neville, shrugging and walking towards the boys' dormitory. 'But people are eventually going to find out if you keep snogging in the common room.'

'But nothing happened,' said Arabella, speaking very slowing and emphasising each word.

'Something did –'

'Neville, what's your middle name?' asked Arabella.

'Frank,' said Neville, a bit nervous as to where this was going.

'Neville Frank Longbottom,' said Arabella, putting her hands on her hips and looking quite menacing. Neville looked frightened and even Harry back off a bit. 'If you tell anybody what happened, I will hide all your clothes around the castle and - just make Harry do something else to you.'

It was weird threatening Neville. Sweet Neville who would never hurt a fly. It was also possibly the most pathetic thing Arabella had ever come up in her life. She would never hide any of Neville's clothes in the castle and would most certainly not make Harry do something to him.

Neville could tell that Arabella's heart wasn't in her threat, even though she did look a bit scary. He gave a chuckle before walking up the stairs to his dormitory.

'You weren't very convincing,' said Harry.

'I know,' said Arabella.

'Did you threaten Nikola like that?'

'No, I was more confident then. The threat wasn't as stupid.'

'We have to talk. Just meet me back here in five minutes and bring the map, please,' said Harry before heading upstairs to the boys' dormitory.

Arabella walked up to her dormitory with butterflies on her stomach to see that all her roommates were fast asleep, to her relief. She quickly got changed into her pyjamas, took off her make-up and got the Marauder's Map from her trunk. She made her way down to the common room to find that Harry was already there wearing his pyjamas and holding his Invisibility Cloak.

'Where are we going?' asked Arabella.

'Somewhere we can't be interrupted,' said Harry. 'Let's go.'

Harry threw the cloak over both of them and the left the common room. They walked together for a while. Harry knew where he was going, Arabella was just following him. They stopped at the statue of the One-Eye Witch on the third floor. Harry took the cloak out and ducked behind the statue, pulling Arabella with him. They were squished together in the small space.

'How romantic,' mumbled Arabella sarcastically.

'I do what I can,' said Harry, shrugging. He leaned in and gave her a small peck on the lips, then pulled away and grinned at her.

'You really like doing that, don't you?' asked Arabella, trying not to look so happy.

'A bit,' said Harry, smiling, then turning a bit serious. 'Why did you run away before?'

'Because… you know…' said Arabella, fretting.

'No, I don't,' said Harry, waiting for her answer.

'During the summer you said we were just friends. I thought that you didn't want to be anything more, so I panicked and I just ran,' said Arabella, rushing her words and looking at the ground. 'Plus, what if it doesn't work out? Then it would be really awkward and we wouldn't be able to hang out anymore. Also, you deserve somebody else, someone who isn't deformed by the stupid scars on her arms or someone who has an eternal bad reputation in the wizarding community.'

'You're kidding me, right?' asked Harry, looking taken back and a bit appalled at her words. 'First of all, _if _this doesn't work out, then we'll figure something out then. Second, those scars aren't stupid. They show how brave and strong you are. Most people would have been completely destroyed with what happened to you, but you're not most people. You don't take shit from people; you give it back to them. You punched Malfoy two times, stood up for Hermione and Professor Lupin, stood in between me and Voldemort in our first year and protected Ginny in the Chamber, even when she was seconds away from death. You and me, we fought off a hundred Dementors and saved Sirius's life. You are the furthest thing from damaged, and if you still think you are, then we're both damaged.'

'You're not damaged,' said Arabella, shaking her head. She felt as though she was close to tears.

'And neither are you,' said Harry, then he cradled her face in his hands and looked her straight in her grey eyes. 'I don't know who told you this, but I have a fairly certain idea, but you're not some deformed monster with horrible looking scars. You're quite the opposite actually.'

'Oh, Harry,' said Arabella, hugging him. 'Thank you.' She really needed to hear that, especially after the shit Nikola told her before. Hearing it come from Harry made it seem better than of somebody else told her.

'So, you like me?' said Harry confidently.

'Yeah, started sometime the end of our first year,' said Arabella, blushing. 'You?'

'What makes you think I like you?' said Harry, teasing her.

'Because you ran after me and kissed me, like three times in one hour,' said Arabella.

'I started sometime during the summer before our second year,' said Harry. 'And neither of us knew?'

'Everybody else did, apparently' said Arabella. 'Do you know they all have bets on us?'

'Really? Who?'

'Ron, Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, Dean, Seamus, Neville, Ernie, Terry from Ravenclaw and some of the teachers,' said Arabella, trying to remember their names. 'Ron, Charlie and Terry said fifth year; Fred, Bill and Neville said sixth; George said summer between fourth and fifth; Ernie said that you will never have the guts to ask me out.'

'I do so!' said Harry, feeling insulted.

'Really?'

'Yes, I do,' said Harry. 'Arabella, will you like to go out sometime, and be my girlfriend?'

Arabella smiled before giving him a kiss. She drew back and said, 'No.'

'What?!' Harry whispered loudly.

'As much as I want to, and I really do,' said Arabella as he was about to open his mouth, 'you have to focus on the tournament. I don't want to be some sort of distraction. You have to focus on getting out of the tournament alive.'

'And if I do?' said Harry.

'Then we'll talk, but only after the end of the year,' said Arabella firmly. 'I promise.'

'Well, I'll need something to look forward to,' said Harry, sighing.

'But,' said Arabella, smiling cheekily, 'we can still kiss.'

Harry smiled before leaning in and kissing her. He wrapped his arms are her waist and brought her closer to him. Arabella placed her hands under his shoulder and behind his back. They stood like this for a while until –

'You two better get going,' growled a voice from the other side of the statue. Arabella was about to scream in fright, but Harry was covering her mouth. They looked around very slowly to find that it was Mad-Eye, who was wearing a sort of amused grin on his face. 'You're lucky it was me and not Snape or even McGonagall. I hear she's got a bet on the two of you. Fifth year. Go on, get going. Be happy I'm not docking any points for orderly behaviour.'

Harry and Arabella nodded gratefully before throwing the cloak over them and walked the opposite direction of Mad-Eye. Arabella pulled out the Marauder's Map and whispered, '_I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_.'

The map was truly a work of art. They were currently on the third floor. Snape was in his dungeon and Professor McGonagall was walking around the fifth floor. Filch and Mrs Norris were near the Great Hall.

'Okay, coast is clear,' whispered Arabella. 'Let's go.'

They walked back to the Gryffindor Tower and managed to get in the common room after waking a very grumpy Fat Lady up. Thankfully, the common room was empty. Harry took the cloak off of them.

'So, I'll see you tomorrow?' said Arabella, smiling a bit.

'Yeah,' said Harry, smiling. 'Are we telling anybody about this?'

'Not now,' said Arabella. 'Not until the tournament is over. Maybe sometime beginning of next year?'

'Sounds good,' said Harry. He gave her a kiss on her forehead before heading upstairs towards the boys' dormitory.

Making sure she was completely alone in the common room, Arabella gave a jump of joy and did some weird victory dance before heading to bed.

**Thank you for reading! If it doesn't sound romantic, please don't hate me. I'm probably the most unromantic person in the world. I think I'm better at writing the stuff before they confess their love, like the subtle hints and meaningful looks. Also, I tried to make it somewhat funny, like when you're dating, but still act somewhat like friends, but then you all of a sudden go make out somewhere. But they're technically not dating yet... so yeah...**


	21. Rita Skeeter's Scoup

**disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, just Arabella. Hope you like it!**

Rita Skeeter's Scoup

Everybody got up late on Boxing Day. Arabella was happier than usual as Hermione's hair was bushy again. Ron and Hermione seemed to have reached an unspoken agreement not to discuss their argument. They were being quite friendly to each other, though oddly formal. Arabella and Harry tried not to look at each other too much, they didn't want to blow their cover, but Arabella had a sudden urge to snog him at the corner of the common room, not caring who saw them.

Ron wasted no time telling Arabella, Harry and Hermione about the conversation he had overheard between Madame Maxime and Hagrid, but they didn't seem to find the news that Hagrid was a half-giant nearly as shocking as Ron did.

'Well, I thought he must be,' said Hermione, shrugging. 'I knew he couldn't be pure giant because they're about twenty feet tall. But honestly, all this hysteria about giants. They can't all be horrible…It's the same sort of prejudice that people have toward werewolves…It's just bigotry, isn't it?'

Ron looked as though he would have liked to reply, but perhaps he didn't want another row, because he contented himself with shaking his head disbelievingly while Hermione wasn't looking. Harry didn't seem to mind that Hagrid was a half-giant, he was still Hagrid. Arabella was a bit worried. She grew up hearing stories about giants and how they allied with Voldemort during the First War. They were responsible for some of the War's worst massacres against the Muggle community. This usually scared the living daylights out anyone hearing it for the first time, but this is Hagrid. There wasn't a single bad bone in him. Hermione's right, they're not all horrible.

It was now time to think of the homework they had neglected during the first week of the holidays. Everybody seemed to be feeling rather moody now that Christmas was over. Everybody except Harry, who as starting to feel slightly nervous.

The trouble was that February the twenty fourth was looking a lot closer than it did before, and Harry still hadn't done anything about the egg, even though he said that he was working on it, which was just total bull. He told Arabella about what Cedric told him during the ball, about taking a bath in the prefect bathroom. Harry wasn't so sure whether or not Cedric really wanted to help him, or if it was just some sort of joke.

And so the first day of the new term started, and Arabella set off to lessons, weighed down by the supplies in her bag and the books on her arms, but she felt happier, more joyful then she did the previous term. As the snow covered the grounds, nobody was looking forward to Care of Magical Creature much in this weather, though as Ron said the skrewts would probably warm them up nicely, either by chasing them, or blasting off so forcefully that Hagrid's cabin would catch fire.

When they arrived at Hagrid's cabin, however, they found an elderly witch with closely cropped gray hair and a very prominent chin standing before his front door.

'Hurry up, now, the bell rang five minutes ago,' she barked at them as they struggled toward her through the snow.

'Who're you?' said Ron, staring at her. 'Wheres Hagrid?'

'My name is Professor Grubbly-Plank,' she said briskly. 'I am your temporary Care of Magical Creatures teacher.'

'Where's Hagrid?' Harry repeated loudly.

'He is indisposed,' said Professor Grubbly-Plank shortly.

An unpleasant laughter reached their ear as Arabella turned around. Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins were joining the class. All of them looked gleeful, and none of them looked surprised to see Professor Grubbly-Plank.

'This way, please,' said Professor Grubbly-Plank, and she strode off around the paddock where the Beauxbatons horses were shivering. Arabella, Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed her, looking back over their shoulders at Hagrid's cabin. All the curtains were closed.

'What's wrong with Hagrid?' asked Harry.

'Never you mind,' she said as though she thought he was being nosy.

'I do mind, though,' said Harry hotly. 'What's up with him?'

Professor Grubbly-Plank acted as though she couldn't hear him. She led them past the paddock where the huge Beauxbatons horses were standing, huddled against the cold, and toward a tree on the edge of the forest, where a large and beautiful unicorn was tethered.

Many of the girls 'ooooohed!' at the sight of the unicorn. 'Oh it's so beautiful!' whispered Lavender Brown. 'How did she get it? They're supposed to be really hard to catch!'

The unicorn was so brightly white it made the snow all around look gray. It was pawing the ground nervously with its golden hooves and throwing back its horned head.

'Boys keep back!' barked Professor Grubbly-Plank. 'They prefer the woman's touch, unicorns. Girls to the front, and approach with care some on, easy does it…'

Arabella stayed behind as the girls walked slowly forward towards the unicorn. She had a thing against horses, even though this was a unicorn. One time, when she was seven, she went horseback riding with Nymph. It was actually quite fun in the beginning, but the horse was very jumpy and excited. One thing lead to another and Arabella fell of the horse, then the horse landing on her left leg, nearly cracking it into two. Ever since then, she's stayed away from horses or anything that resembled them. This one especially since it has a dagger attached to its head.

Arabella walked to where Harry and Ron were with most of the boys. She attached herself between them, but slightly leaned on Harry. Nobody noticed, but Neville was giving her a sort of secretive smile.

'Why aren't you with the rest of them?' asked Ron.

'Bad experiences with horses,' said Arabella.

'But it's a unicorn,' said Harry.

'Does _not_ make it any better,' said Arabella, shaking her head.

Ron was about to open his mouth to say something, but decided against it.

'What d'you reckons wrong with Hagrid? You don't think a skrewt -?' said Harry, but he was cut off.

'Oh he hasn't been attacked, Potter, if that's what you're thinking,' said Malfoy softly. 'No, he's just too ashamed to show his big, ugly face.'

'What d'you mean?' said Harry sharply.

Malfoy put his hand inside the pocket of his robes and pulled out a folded page of newsprint.

'There you go,' he said. 'Hate to break it to you. Potter…'

He smirked as Harry snatched the page, unfolded it, and read it, with Arabella, Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville looking over his shoulder. It was an article topped with a picture of Hagrid looking extremely shifty.

_DUMBLEDORE'S GIANT MISTAKE _

_Albus Dumbledore, eccentric Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been afraid to make controversial staff appointments, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. In September of this year, he hired Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-Auror, to each Defense Against the Dark Arts, a decision that caused many raised eyebrows at the Ministry of Magic, given Moody's well-known habit of attacking anybody who makes a sudden movement in his presence. Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks responsible and kindly when set beside the part-human Dumbledore employs to teach Care of Magical Creatures. _

_Rubeus Hagrid, who admits to being expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, has enjoyed the position of gamekeeper at the school ever since a job secured for him by Dumbledore. Last year, however, Hagrid used his mysterious influence over the headmaster to secure the additional post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher, over the heads of many better-qualified candidates. _

_An alarmingly large and ferocious-looking man, Hagrid has been using his newfound authority to terrify the students in his care with a succession of horrific creatures. While Dumbledore turns a blind eye, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a series of lessons that many admit to being 'very frightening.' 'I was attacked by a hippogriff, and my friend Vincent Crabbe got a bad bite off a flobberworm,' says Draco Malfoy, a fourth-year student. 'We all hate Hagrid, but we're just too scared to say anything.' _

_Hagrid has no intention of ceasing his campaign of intimidation, however. In conversation with a Daily Prophet reporter last month, he admitted breeding creatures he has dubbed 'Blast-Ended Skrewts,' highly dangerous crosses between manti-cores and fire-crabs. The creation of new breeds of magical creature is, of course, an activity usually closely observed by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Hagrid, however, considers himself to be above such petty restrictions. _

_'I was just having some fun,' he says, before hastily changing the subject. As if this were not enough, the Daily Prophet has now unearthed evidence that Hagrid is not - as he has always pretended - a pureblood wizard. He is not, in fact, even pure human. His mother, we can exclusively reveal, is none other than the giantess Fridwulfa, whose whereabouts are currently unknown. Bloodthirsty and brutal, the giants brought themselves to the point of extinction by warring amongst themselves during the last century. _

_The handful that remained joined the ranks of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and were responsible for some of the worst mass Muggle killings of his reign of terror. While many of the giants who served He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were killed by Aurors working against the Dark Side, Fridwulfa was not among them. It is possible she escaped to one of the giant communities still existing in foreign mountain ranges. If his antics during Care of Magical Creatures lessons are any guide, however, Fridwulfa's son appears to have inherited her brutal nature._

_In a bizarre twist, Hagrid is reputed to have developed a close friendship with the boy who brought around You-Know-Who's fall from power - thereby driving Hagrid's own mother, like the rest of YouKnow-Who's supporters, into hiding. Perhaps Harry Potter is unaware of the unpleasant truth about his large friend – but Albus Dumbledore surely has a duty to ensure that Harry Potter, along with his fellow students, is warned about the dangers of associating with part-giants._

Arabella finished reading and felt her body become rigid.

'How did she find out?' whispered Ron, whose mouth was hanging open.

But that wasn't what was bothering Harry.

'What d'you mean, 'we all hate Hagrid'?' Harry spat at Malfoy. 'What's this rubbish about him' - he pointed at Crabbe - 'getting a bad bite off a flobberworm? They haven't even got teeth!'

Crabbe was sniggering, apparently very pleased with himself.

'Well, I think this should put an end to the oaf's teaching career,' said Malfoy, his eyes glinting. 'Half-giant…and there was me thinking he'd just swallowed a bottle of Skele-Gro when he was young…None of the mummies and daddies are going to like this at all…They'll be worried he'll eat their kids, ha, ha…'

'You-'

'Are you paying attention over there?'

Professor Grubbly-Planks voice carried over to the boys, and Arabella; the girls were all clustered around the unicorn now, stroking it. Harry was so angry that the Daily Prophet article shook in his hands as they turned to stare unseeingly at the unicorn, whose many magical properties Professor Grubbly-Plank was now enumerating in a loud voice, so that the boys and Arabella could hear too.

'I hope she stays, that woman!' said Parvati when the lesson had ended and they were all heading back to the castle for lunch. 'That's more what I thought Care of Magical Creatures would be like…proper creatures like unicorns, not monsters…'

'What about Hagrid?' Harry said angrily as they went up the steps.

'What about him?' said Parvati in a hard voice. 'He can still be gamekeeper, can't he?'

Parvati had been very cool toward Harry since the ball. Apparently Harry didn't pay much attention to her, but she still had a very good time all in all with a boy from Durmstrang.

'That was a really good lesson,' said Hermione as they entered the Great Hall. 'I didn't know half the things Professor Grubbly-Plank told us about uni-'

'Look at this!' Harry snarled, and he shoved the Daily Prophet article under Hermione's nose.

Hermione's mouth fell open as she read. Her reaction was exactly the same as Ron's.

'How did that horrible Skeeter woman find out? You don't think Hagrid told her?'

'No,' said Harry, leading the way over to the Gryffindor table and throwing himself into a chair, furious. 'He never even told us, did he? I reckon she was so mad he wouldn't give her loads of horrible stuff about me, she went ferreting around to get him back.'

'Maybe she heard him telling Madame Maxime at the ball,' said Arabella.

'I'd have seen her in the garden!' said Ron. 'Anyway, she's not supposed to come into school anymore, Hagrid said Dumbledore banned her…'

'Maybe she's got an Invisibility Cloak,' said Harry, ladling chicken casserole onto his plate and splashing it everywhere in his anger. 'Sort of thing she'd do, isn't it, hide in bushes listening to people.'

'Ron did, you mean,' said Hermione.

'I wasn't trying to hear him!' said Ron indignantly. 'I didn't have any choice! The stupid prat, talking about his giantess mother where anyone could have heard him!'

'We've got to go and see him,' said Harry. 'This evening, after Divination. Tell him we want him back…you do want him back?' he shot at Hermione.

'I - well, I'm not going to pretend it didn't make a nice change, having a proper Care of Magical Creatures lesson for once - but I do want Hagrid back, of course I do!' Hermione added hastily, quailing under Harry's furious stare.

So that evening after dinner, the four of them left the castle once more and went down through the frozen grounds to Hagrid's cabin. They knocked, and Fang's booming barks answered.

'Hagrid, it's us!' Harry shouted, pounding on the door. 'Open up!'

Hagrid didn't answer. They could hear Fang scratching at the door, whining, but it didn't open. They hammered on it for ten more minutes; Ron even went and banged on one of the windows, but there was no response.

'What's he avoiding us for?' Hermione said when they had finally given up and were walking back to the school. 'He surely doesn't think we'd care about him being half-giant?'

But it seemed that Hagrid did care. They didn't see a sign of him all week. He didn't appear at the staff table at mealtimes, they didn't see him going about his gamekeeper duties on the grounds, and Professor Grubbly-Plank continued to take the Care of Magical Creatures classes. Malfoy was gloating at every possible opportunity.

'Missing your half-breed pal?' he kept whispering to any one of them whenever there was a teacher around, so that he was safe from their retaliation. 'Missing the elephantman?'

There was a Hogsmeade visit halfway through January. Hermione was very surprised that Harry was going to go.

'I just thought you'd want to take advantage of the common room being quiet,' she said. 'Really get to work on that egg.'

'Oh I - I reckon I've got a pretty good idea what it's about now,' Harry lied.

'Have you really?' said Hermione, looking impressed. 'Well done!'

When Hermione left them and Ron went to bed, Arabella hit him over the head before giving him a kiss.

They left the castle together on Saturday and set off through the cold grounds toward the gates. As they passed the Durmstrang ship in the lake, they saw Krum and Nikola emerge onto the deck. They were dressed in nothing but their swimming trunks. They climbed up onto the side of the ship, stretched out their arms, and dived, right into the lake.

'They're mad!' said Harry, staring. 'It must be freezing, it's January!'

'It's a lot colder where they comes from,' said Hermione. 'I suppose it feels quite warm to them.'

'Yeah, but there's still the giant squid,' said Ron. He didn't sound anxious – if anything, he sounded hopeful. Hermione noticed his tone of voice and frowned. Arabella silently agreed with Ron. She wouldn't mind if the giant squid got to Nikola and ripped his tongue out, anything out really.

'Krum's really nice, you know,' she said. 'He's not at all like you'd think, coming from Durmstrang. He likes it much better here, he told me.'

Ron said nothing. He hadn't mentioned Krum since the ball, and Harry said nothing about Nikola either. It was the unspoken rule between them.

Once they were certain that Hagrid was nowhere to be seen, Harry suggested a visit to the Three Broomsticks for a drink. The pub was as crowded as ever, but Hagrid was still not there. They went up to the bar to order four butterbeers from Madam Rosmerta.

'Doesn't he ever go into the office?' Hermione whispered suddenly. 'Look!'

She pointed into the mirror behind the bar, and Arabella saw Ludo Bagman's reflection, sitting in a corner with a bunch of goblins. Bagman was talking very fast in a low voice to the goblins, all of whom had their arms crossed and were looking rather menacing.

It was odd that Bagman was here at Three Broomsticks on a weekend when there was no Triwizard event going on. Bagman glanced over at the back, saw Harry and stood up.

'In a moment, in a moment!' Arabella heard him say to the goblins, and Bagman hurried through the pub towards Harry.

'Harry!' he said. 'How are you? Been hoping to run into you! Everything going all right?'

'Fine, thanks,' said Harry.

'Wonder if I could have a quick, private word, Harry?' said Bagman eagerly. 'You couldn't give us a moment, you three, could you?'

'Er - okay,' said Ron, and he, Hermione, and Arabella went off to find a table while Bagman led Harry along the bar to the end furthest from Madam Rosmerta.

'What do you think he wants?' asked Ron, as they watched Bagman talking to Harry.

'I don't know, but it's probably something bad,' said Arabella, taking as sip of butterbeer. 'You don't mess with goblins. Something's going on.'

They continued to watch them as Bagman and Harry talked and as Fred and George appeared. Harry managed to slip away.

'What did he want?' Ron said, the moment Harry had sat down.

'He offered to help me with the golden egg,' said Harry.

'He shouldn't be doing that!' said Hermione, looking very shocked. 'He's one of the judges! And anyway, you've already worked it out - haven't you?'

'Er…nearly,' said Harry.

'Well, I don't think Dumbledore would like it if he knew Bagman was trying to persuade you to cheat!' said Hermione, still looking deeply disapproving. 'I hope he's trying to help Cedric as much!'

'He's not, I asked,' said Harry.

'Who cares if Diggorys getting help?' said Ron.

'What are the goblins doing here?' said Arabella.

'Looking for Crouch, according to Bagman,' said Harry. 'He's still ill. Hasn't been into work.'

'Maybe Percys poisoning him,' said Ron. 'Probably thinks if Crouch snuffs it he'll be made head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation.'

Hermione gave Ron a don't-joke-about-things-like-that look, and said, 'Funny, goblins looking for Mr. Crouch…They'd normally deal with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.'

'Crouch can speak loads of different languages, though,' said Harry. 'Maybe they need an interpreter.'

'Worrying about poor 'ickle goblins, now, are you?' Ron asked Hermione. 'Thinking of starting up S.P.U.G. or something? Society for the Protection of Ugly Goblins?'

'Ha, ha, ha,' said Hermione sarcastically. 'Goblins don't need protection. Haven't you been listening to what Professor Binns has been telling us about goblin rebellions?'

'No,' said Arabella, Harry and Ron together.

'Well, they're quite capable of dealing with wizards,' said Hermione, taking a sip of butterbeer. 'They're very clever. They're not like house-elves, who never stick up for themselves.'

'Uh-oh,' said Ron, staring at the door.

Arabella looked at the door, and uh-oh was right. Rita Skeeter just entered Three Broomsticks. She bought drinks, and she and her photographer made their way through the crowds to a table nearby. Arabella, Harry, Ron and Hermione glaring at her as she approached. She was talking fast and looking very satisfied about something.

'…didn't seem very keen to talk to us, did he, Bozo? Now, why would that be, do you think? And what's he doing with a pack of goblins in town anyway? Showing them the sights…what nonsense…he was always a bad liar. Reckon something's up? Think we should do a bit of digging? 'Disgraced Ex-Head of Magical Games and Sports, Ludo Bagman…' Snappy start to a sentence, Bozo - we just need to find a story to fit it -'

'Trying to ruin someone else's life?' said Harry loudly.

A few people looked around. Rita Skeeter's eyes widened behind her jeweled spectacles as she saw who had spoken.

'Harry!' she said, beaming. 'How lovely! Why don't you come and join-?'

'I wouldn't come near you with a ten-foot broomstick,' said Harry furiously. 'What did you do that to Hagrid for, eh?'

Rita Skeeter raised her heavily penciled eyebrows.

'Our readers have a right to the truth, Harry. I am merely doing my-'

'Who cares if he's half-giant?' Harry shouted. 'There's nothing wrong with him!'

The whole pub had gone very quiet. Madam Rosmerta was staring over from behind the bar, apparently oblivious to the fact that the flagon she was filling with mead was overflowing.

Rita Skeeters smile flickered very slightly, but she hitched it back almost at once; she snapped open her crocodile-skin handbag, pulled out her Quick-Quotes Quill, and said, 'How about giving me an interview about the Hagrid you know. Harry? The man behind the muscles? Your unlikely friendship and the reasons behind it. Would you call him a father substitute?'

Hermione stood up very abruptly, her butterbeer clutched in her hand as though it were a grenade.

'You horrible woman,' she said, through gritted teeth, 'you don't care, do you, anything for a story, and anyone will do, won't they? Even Ludo Bagman -'

'Sit down, you silly little girl, and don't talk about things you don't understand,' said Rita Skeeter coldly, her eyes hardening as they fell on Hermione. 'I know things about Ludo Bagman that would make your hair curl…not that it needs it -' she added, eyeing Hermione's bushy hair. She then turned to Arabella, smiling nastily. 'But I bet you already know, that werewolf of yours probably told you all about Ludo Bagman. He's of course the reason why your dear mother, may she rest in peace, had to go into hiding after all.'

'What the bloody hell are you talking about?' snarled Arabella, getting up from her seat quickly as some of her butterbeer fell over on to the floor. Arabella didn't like Rita's tone of voice. It was full of glee, excitement. It was sickening to hear her talk about Arabella's mother.

Rita's eyes widened and smiled broadened. 'You mean you don't know? You truly don't know?'

'Either tell me or get out,' said Arabella, her voice cold. She didn't believe a single word that came out of this woman's mouth. It was all bullshit.

Rita's Quick-Quotes Quill started to move at a rapid pace. Arabella felt her blood boil at that sight. She grabbed the Quick-Quotes Quill, put it on the table and threw Harry's butterbeer all over it. All Rita's notes were smudged with butterbeer. Arabella felt a sort of satisfaction from the sight. She turned back to Rita and was even more pleased. Rita's face was stuck between horror and rage. Her eyes were budging out, the ends of her mouth were twitching, her nose was flared and she was staring at her ruined Quick-Quotes Quill. Nobody talks about Arabella's mother like that without getting something in return, and this was just it.

'Let's go, Arabella,' said Hermione, tugging on Arabella's sleeve, 'c'mon. Harry - Ron…'

They left; many people were staring at them as they went. Arabella was walking fast out of Hogsmeade with Harry, Ron and Hermione beside her. She was shaking with fury.

'She'll be after you two next,' said Ron told her. 'You and Hermione.'

'Let her try!' said Hermione defiantly. 'I'll show her. Silly little girl, am I?' Oh, I'll get her back for this. First Harry, then Hagrid…'

'You don't want to go upsetting Rita Skeeter,' said Ron nervously. 'I'm serious, she'll dig up something on you -'

'My mother's dead, my father's on the run, my godfather's a werewolf, and I'm related to some of the most feared criminals in the wizarding world. Tell me, what else _can_ she dig up?' yelled Arabella, throwing her hand in the air. 'And Hagrid's not hiding anymore! Rita Skeeter, _of all the bloody people in the world_, is not going to upset him!'

Walking in a briskly, Arabella was more furious with what she was thinking, rather than what happened. Did her mother really go into hiding? Was Ludo Bagman's fault? Why was she going into hiding in the first place? It was most likely all bullshit, but this was definitely something you wouldn't just make up.

They walked back up the road, through the gates flanked by winged boars, and up through the grounds to Hagrid's cabin. The curtains were still drawn, and they could hear Fang barking as they approached.

Arabella started to pound on the door as Hermione started to shout. They were a good team.

'Hagrid! Hagrid, that's enough! We know you're in there! Nobody cares of your mum was a giantess, Hagrid! You can't let that foul Skeeter woman do this to you! Hagrid, get out here, you're just being –'

The door opened. Arabella said, 'About blo-!' and then stopped, very suddenly, because she had found herself face-to-face with Dumbledore.

'Good afternoon,' he said pleasantly, smiling down at them.

'We-er-we wanted to see Hagrid,' said Arabella in a rather small voice.

'Yes, I surmised as much,' said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. 'Why don't you come in?'

'Oh…um…okay,' said Arabella.

They went into the cabin. Hagrid was sitting at his table. He looked a real mess. His face was blotchy and his eyes swollen.

'Hi, Hagrid,' said Harry.

Hagrid looked up.

''Lo,' he said in a very hoarse voice.

'More tea, I think,' said Dumbledore, closing the door behind Arabella, Harry, Ron and Hermione, drawing out his wand, and twiddling it; a revolving tea tray appeared in midair along with a plate of cakes. Dumbledore magicked the tray onto the table, and everybody sat down. There was a slight pause, and then Dumbledore said, 'Did you by any chance hear what Miss Granger was shouting, Hagrid?'

Hermione went slightly pink, but Dumbledore smiled at her and continued, 'Hermione, Arabella, Harry, and Ron still seem to want to know you, judging by the way they were attempting to break down the door.'

'Of course we still want to know you!' Harry said, staring at Hagrid. 'You don't think anything that Skeeter cow - sorry, Professor,' he added quickly, looking at Dumbledore.

'I have gone temporarily deaf and haven't any idea what you said. Harry,' said Dumbledore, twiddling his thumbs and staring at the ceiling.

'Er-right,' said Harry sheepishly. 'I just meant-Hagrid, how could you think we'd care what that-woman-wrote about you?'

Two fat tears leaked out of Hagrid's beetle-black eyes and fell slowly into his tangled beard.

'Living proof of what I've been telling you, Hagrid,' said Dumbledore, still looking carefully up at the ceiling. 'I have shown you the letters from the countless parents who remember you from their own days here, telling me in no uncertain terms that if I sacked you, they would have something to say about it -'

'Not all of 'em,' said Hagrid hoarsely. 'Not all of 'em wan me ter stay.'

'Really, Hagrid, if you are holding out for universal popularity, I'm afraid you will be in this cabin for a very long time,' said Dumbledore, now peering sternly over his half-moon spectacles. 'Not a week has passed since I became headmaster of this school when I haven't had at least one owl complaining about the way I run it. But what should I do? Barricade myself in my study and refuse to talk to anybody?'

'Yeh - yeh're not half-giant!' said Hagrid croakily.

'Hagrid, look at who I have for relative!' Harry said furiously. 'Look at who Arabella has for relatives!'

'You do not want to have my relatives,' muttered Arabella, shaking her head.

'An excellent point,' said Professor Dumbledore. 'My own brother, Aberforth, was prosecuted for practicing inappropriate charms on a goat. It was all over the papers, but did Aberforth hide? No, he did not! He held his head high and went about his business as usual! Of course, I'm not entirely sure he can read, so that may not have been bravery…'

'Come back and teach, Hagrid,' said Hermione quietly, 'please come back, we really miss you.'

Hagrid gulped. More tears leaked out down his cheeks and into his tangled beard. Dumbledore stood up. 'I refuse to accept your resignation, Hagrid, and I expect you back at work on Monday,' he said. 'You will join me for breakfast at eight-thirty in the Great Hall. No excuses. Good afternoon to you all.'

Dumbledore left the cabin, pausing only to scratch Fangs ears. When the door had shut behind him, Hagrid began to sob into his dustbin-lid-sized hands. Hermione kept patting his arm, and at last, Hagrid looked up, his eyes very red indeed, and said, 'Great man, Dumbledore…great man…'

'Yeah, he is,' said Ron. 'Can I have one of these cakes, Hagrid?'

'Help yerself,' said Hagrid, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand. 'Ar, he's righ', o' course - yeh're all righ'…I bin stupid…my ol' dad woulda bin ashamed o' the way I've bin behavin'…'

More tears leaked out, but he wiped them away more forcefully, and said, 'Never shown you a picture of my old dad, have I? Here…'

Hagrid got up, went over to his dresser, opened a drawer, and pulled out a picture of a short wizard with Hagrid's crinkled black eyes, beaming as he sat on top of Hagrid's shoulder. Hagrid was a good seven or eight feet tall, judging by the apple tree beside him, but his face was beardless, young, round, and smooth - he looked hardly older than eleven.

'Tha was taken jus' after I got inter Hogwarts,' Hagrid croaked. 'Dad was dead chuffed…thought I migh' not be a wizard, see, 'cos me mum…well, anyway. 'Course, I never was great shakes at magic, really…but at least he never saw me expelled. Died, see, in me second year… 'Dumbledore was the one who stuck up for me after Dad went. Got me the gamekeeper job…trusts people, he does. Gives 'em second chances…tha's what sets him apar' from other heads, see. He'll accept anyone at Hogwarts, s'long as they've got the talent. Knows people can turn out okay even if their families weren'…well…all tha' respectable. But some don understand that. There's some who'd always hold it against yeh…there's some who'd even pretend they just had big bones rather than stand up an' say - I am what I am, an' I'm not ashamed. 'Never be ashamed,' my ol' dad used ter say, 'there's some who'll hold it against you, but they're not worth botherin' with.' An' he was right. I've bin an idiot. I'm not botherin' with her no more, I promise yeh that. Big bones…I'll give her big bones.'

Arabella, Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other nervously, but Hagrid was still talking, apparently unaware that he had said anything odd.

'Yeh know wha, Harry?' he said, looking up from the photograph of his father, his eyes very bright, 'when I firs' met you, you reminded me o' me a bit. Mum an' Dad gone, an' you was feelin' like yeh wouldn' fit in at Hogwarts, remember? Not sure yeh were really up to it…an' now look at yeh, Harry! School champion!'

He looked at Harry for a moment and then said, very seriously, 'Yeh know what I'd love Harry? I'd love yeh ter win, I really would. It'd show 'em all…yeh don' have ter be pure-blood ter do it. Yeh don have ter be ashamed of what yeh are. It'd show 'em Dumbledore's the one who's got it righ', lettin' anyone in as long as they can do magic. How you doin' with that egg, Harry?'

'Great,' said Harry. 'Really great.'

Hagrid's miserable face broke into a wide, watery smile.

'Tha's my boy…you show 'em, Harry, you show 'em. Beat 'em all.'

They walked back to the castle later that afternoon, Ron and Hermione walked further up as Harry and Arabella were a few feet behind them. Arabella's right arm was looped around Harry's left.

'Harry, you have to see if Cedric's hint's right,' said Arabella as the picture of Hagrid's face was making her feel a bit guilty, even though this was all on Harry.

Harry nodded as they continued their way up towards the castle.

**Thank you for reading!**


	22. The Second Task

**disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, just Arabella. First part's in Harry POV, then the rest is in Arabella's. Hope you like it!**

The Second Task

'You lost the Map?' said Arabella, shocked.

'You said you'd already worked out that egg clue!' said Hermione crossly.

'Keep your voice down!' said Harry. 'I just need to – sort of fine-tune it, all right? And I didn't lose the Map, Moody just wanted to borrow it.'

They were sitting at the very back of the Charms class with a table to themselves. They were supposed to be practicing the opposite of the Summoning Charm today – the Banishing Charm. Professor Flitwick had given each of them a stack of cushions on which to practice, the theory being that if someone gets hit with one of them, it wouldn't hurt.

'Just forget the egg for a minute, all right?' Harry hissed as Professor Flitwick went whizzing resignedly past them, landing on top of a large cabinet. 'I'm trying to tell you about Snape and Moody…'

This class was an ideal cover for a private conversation, as everyone was having far too much fun to pay them any attention. Harry had been recounting his adventures of the previous night in whispered installments for the last half hour.

'Snape said Moodys searched his office as well?' Ron whispered, his eyes alight with interest as he Banished a cushion with a sweep of his wand (it soared into the air and knocked Parvati's hat off). 'What…d'you reckon Moody's here to keep an eye on Snape as well as Karkaroff?'

'Well, I dunno if that's what Dumbledore asked him to do, but he's definitely doing it,' said Harry, waving his wand without paying much attention, so that his cushion did an odd sort of belly flop off the desk. 'Moody said Dumbledore only lets Snape stay here because he's giving him a second chance or something…'

'What?' said Ron, his eyes widening, his next cushion spinning high into the air, ricocheting off the chandelier, and dropping heavily onto Flitwick's desk. 'Harry…maybe Moody thinks Snape put your name in the Goblet of Fire!'

'Oh Ron,' said Hermione, shaking her head sceptically, 'we thought Snape was trying to kill Harry before, and it turned out he was saving Harry's life, remember?'

She Banished a cushion and it flew across the room and landed in the box they were all supposed to be aiming at. Harry looked at Hermione, thinking…it was true that Snape had saved his life once, but the odd thing was, Snape definitely loathed him, just as he'd loathed Harry's father when they had been at school together. Snape loved taking points from Harry, and had certainly never missed an opportunity to give him punishments, or even to suggest that he should be suspended from the school.

'I don't care what Moody says,' Hermione went on. 'Dumbledore's not stupid. He was right to trust Hagrid and Professor Lupin, even though loads of people wouldn't have given them jobs, so why shouldn't he be right about Snape, even if Snape is a bit -'

'- evil,' said Ron promptly. 'Come on, Hermione, why are all these Dark wizard catchers searching his office, then?'

'Why has Mr. Crouch been pretending to be ill?' said Hermione, ignoring Ron. 'Its a bit funny, isn't it, that he can't manage to come to the Yule Ball, but he can get up here in the middle of the night when he wants to?'

'You just don't like Crouch because of that elf, Winky,' said Ron, sending a cushion soaring into the window.

'You just want to think Snapes up to something,' said Hermione, sending her cushion zooming neatly into the box.

'That's because he always is,' said Arabella, banishing her cushion across the room and into the box, neatly on top of Hermione's.

'I just want to know what Snape did with his first chance, if he's on his second one,' said Harry grimly, and his cushion, to his very great surprise, flew straight across the room and landed precisely on top of Arabella's.

Obedient to Sirius and Remus's wished of hearing about anything odd at Hogwarts, Harry and Arabella sent them both letters explaining about Mr. Crouch breaking into Snape's office, and Moody and Snape's conversation. Then Harry turned his attention in earnest to the most urgent problem facing him: how to survive underwater for an hour on the twenty-fourth of February.

Ron quite liked the idea of using the Summoning Charm again - Harry had explained about Aqua-Lungs, and Ron couldn't see why Harry shouldn't summon one from the nearest Muggle town. Hermione squashed this plan by pointing out that, in the unlikely event that Harry managed to learn how to operate an Aqua- Lung within the set limit of an hour, he was sure to be disqualified for breaking the International Code of Wizarding Secrecy - it was too much to hope that no Muggles would spot an Aqua-Lung zooming across the countryside to Hogwarts.

'Of course, the ideal solution would be for you to Transfigure yourself into a submarine or something,' Hermione said. 'If only we'd done human Transfiguration already! But I don't think we start that until sixth year, and it can go badly wrong if you don't know what you're doing…'

'Yeah, I don't fancy walking around with a periscope sticking out of my head,' said Harry. 'I s'pose I could always attack someone in front of Moody; he might do it for me…'

'I don't think he'd let you choose what you wanted to be turned into, though,' said Hermione seriously. 'No, I think your best chance is some sort of charm.'

So Harry, thinking that he would soon have had enough of the library to last him a lifetime, buried himself once more among the dusty volumes, looking for any spell that might enable a human to survive without oxygen. However, though he, Ron, Arabella, and Hermione searched through their lunchtimes, evenings, and whole weekends - though Harry asked Professor McGonagall for a note of permission to use the Restricted Section, and even asked the irritable, vulture-like librarian Madam Pince, for help - they found nothing whatsoever that would enable Harry to spend an hour underwater and live to tell the tale.

Familiar flutterings of panic were starting to disturb Harry now, and he was finding it difficult to concentrate in class again. The lake, which Harry had always taken for granted as just another feature of the grounds, drew his eyes whenever he was near a classroom window, a great, iron-gray mass of chilly water, whose dark and icy depths were starting to seem as distant as the moon.

Just as it had before he faced the Horntail, time was slipping away as though somebody had bewitched the clocks to go extra-fast. There was a week to go before February the twenty-fourth (there was still time)…there were five days to go (he was bound to find something soon)…three days to go (please let me find something…please)…With two days left. Harry started to go off food again. The only good thing about breakfast on Monday was the return of the brown owl he and Arabella sent to Sirius and Remus. Harry pulled out the single parchment, unrolled it, and saw the shortest letter they had ever seen.

_Send date of next Hogsmeade weekend by return owl. _

'Maybe there's something on the back?' said Arabella, disappointed by the letter.

Harry turned the parchment over and looked at the back, hoping to see something else, but it was blank.

'Anyway, it's the weekend after next,' said Arabella. 'Send the owl back straight away. Here, use my quill.'

Harry scribbled the dates down on the back of the letter, tied it to the owl's leg, and watched it take flight again.

'Why do they want to know about the next Hogsmeade weekend for?' said Ron.

'Dunno,' said Harry dully. The momentary happiness that had flared inside him at the sight of the owl had died. 'Come on…Care of Magical Creatures.'

Whether Hagrid was trying to make up for the Blast-Ended Skrewts, or because there were now only two skrewts left, or because he was trying to prove he could do anything that Professor Grubbly-Plank could, Harry didn't know, but Hagrid had been continuing her lessons on unicorns ever since he'd returned to work. It turned out that Hagrid knew quite as much about unicorns as he did about monsters, though it was clear that he found their lack of poisonous fangs disappointing.

Today he had managed to capture two unicorn foals. Unlike full-grown unicorns, they were pure gold. Parvati and Lavender went into transports of delight at the sight of them, and even Pansy Parkinson had to work hard to conceal how much she liked them.

'Easier ter spot than the adults,' Hagrid told the class. 'They turn silver when they're abou' two years old, an' they grow horns at aroun four. Don' go pure white till they're full grown, 'round about seven. They're a bit more trustin when they're babies…don mind boys so much…C'mon, move in a bit, yeh can pat 'em if yeh want…give 'em a few o' these sugar lumps…

'You okay Harry?' Hagrid muttered, moving aside slightly, while most of the others swarmed around the baby unicorns.

'Yeah,' said Harry.

'Jus' nervous, eh?' said Hagrid.

'Bit,' said Harry.

'Harry,' said Hagrid, clapping a massive hand on his shoulder, so that Harry's knees buckled under its weight, 'I'd've bin worried before I saw yeh take on tha Horntail, but I know now yeh can do anythin' yeh set yer mind ter. I'm not worried at all. Yeh're goin ter be fine. Got yer clue worked out, haven' yeh?'

Harry nodded, but even as he did so, an insane urge to confess that he didn't have any idea how to survive at the bottom of the lake for an hour came over him. He looked up at Hagrid - perhaps he had to go into the lake sometimes, to deal with the creatures in it? He looked after everything else on the grounds, after all-

'Yeh're goin' ter win,' Hagrid growled, patting Harry's shoulder again, so that Harry actually felt himself sink a couple of inches into the soft ground. 'I know it. I can feel it. Yeh're goin' ter win, Harry'

Harry just couldn't bring himself to wipe the happy, confident smile off Hagrid's face. Pretending he was interested in the young unicorns, he forced a smile in return, and moved forward to pat them with the others.

By the evening before the second task Harry felt as though he were trapped in a nightmare. He was fully aware that even if, by some miracle, he managed to find a suitable spell, he'd have a real job mastering it overnight. How could he have let this happen? Why hadn't he got to work on the egg's clue sooner? Why had he ever let his mind wander in class - what if a teacher had once mentioned how to breathe underwater?

He sat with Arabella, Hermione and Ron in the library as the sun set outside, tearing feverishly through page after page of spells, hidden from one another by the massive piles of books on the desk in front of each of them. Harry s heart gave a huge leap every time he saw the word 'water' on a page, but more often than not it was merely 'Take two pints of water, half a pound of shredded mandrake leaves, and a newt…'

'I don't reckon it can be done,' said Ron's voice flatly from the other side of the table. 'There's nothing. Nothing. Closest was that thing to dry up puddles and ponds, that Drought Charm, but that was nowhere near powerful enough to drain the lake.'

'There must be something,' Hermione muttered, moving a candle closer to her. Her eyes were so tired she was poring over the tiny print of Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charmes with her nose about an inch from the page. 'They'd never have set a task that was undoable.'

'They have,' said Arabella, shutting her book and practically flinging it across the table. 'Harry, just go down to the lake tomorrow, stick your head in, yell at the merpeople to give back whatever they've stolen, and see if they chuck it out. It's the best you can do.'

'There's a way of doing it!' Hermione said crossly. 'There just has to be!'

She seemed to be taking the library's lack of useful information on the subject as a personal insult; it had never failed her before.

'I know what I should have done,' said Harry, resting, face-down, on Saucy Tricks for Tricky Sorts. 'I should've learned to be an Animagus like Sirius.'

'Yeah, you could've turned into a goldfish any time you wanted!' said Ron.

'Or a frog,' yawned Harry. He was exhausted.

'It takes years to become an Animagus, and then you have to register yourself and everything,' said Hermione vaguely, now squinting down the index of Weird Wizarding Dilemmas and Their Solutions. 'Professor McGonagall told us, remember…you've got to register yourself with the Improper Use of Magic Office…what animal you become, and your markings, so you can't abuse it…'

'We know,' said Arabella. 'It's not like Harry has a chance of turning into a frog by tomorrow morning…'

'Oh this is no use,' Hermione said, snapping shut Weird Wizarding Dilemmas. 'Who on earth wants to make their nose hair grow into ringlets?'

'I wouldn't mind,' said Fred Weasleys voice. 'Be a talking point, wouldn't it?'

Harry, Ron, Arabella, and Hermione looked up. Fred and George had just emerged from behind some bookshelves.

'What're you two doing here?' Ron asked.

'Looking for you,' said George. 'McGonagall wants to see Arabella and Hermione.'

'Why?' said Hermione, looking surprised.

'Dunno…she was looking a bit grim, though,' said Fred.

'We're supposed to take you down to her office,' said George.

Arabella and Hermione stared at Harry and Ron.

'We'll meet you back in the common room,' Hermione told Harry and Ron as she got up to go with Arabella - both of them looked very anxious. 'Bring as many of these books as you can, okay?'

'Right,' said Harry uneasily.

* * *

'She didn't say anything?' asked Arabella to Fred and George. 'Something?'

'Nothing,' said Fred, shaking his head. 'Just wanted to see the both of you.'

Arabella and Hermione continued to follow Fred and George to where ever they were taking them. Once they arrived at Professor McGonagall's office, George knocked on the door before sticking his head in. he opened it wider and Arabella and Hermione entered the office. Inside the office was Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore, Madame Maxime, Cho Chang, and Gabrielle Delacour, Fleur's sister.

'Thank you Mr Weasleys, you may leave now,' said Professor McGonagall, looking quite grim.

Fred and George nodded before exiting through the door and shutting it close.

'As you all know, the Second Task is tomorrow,' said Professor Dumbledore, 'and in this task, each of the champion will lose something this is most precious to them, but it is not an item that they value the most, it is the person they will miss the most. For Mr Cedric Diggory, Miss Cho Chang, for Miss Fleur Delacour, her sister Gabrielle Delacour, for Mr Victor Krum, Miss Hermione Granger, and for Mr Harry Potter, Miss Arabella Black. You all, if you accept, will be put under a sleeping charm that I will perform. Once you are under the charm, we will transport you four into the Black Lake for tomorrow's task. No harm will come to you will under this spell, and if your champion doesn't come to get you, or they encounter some problem, then one of the teachers will come and get you once the task is over.'

'Now, while you are in the Lake, merpeople will be guarding you,' added Professor McGonagall. 'They will not harm you, but are there as an obstacle for the champions to face.'

'Do you accept this? We know it's a lot to ask, but it is the task that the champions must face for the tournament,' said Professor Dumbledore. 'Do you accept being the champion's hostage that they will miss the most? Miss Chang?'

'Yes,' said Cho, nodding her head. Gabrielle also nodded her head, with Madame Maxime looking a bit skeptical for such a young girl being at the bottom of the lake.

'Miss Granger?' asked Dumbledore.

'Yes, all right,' said Hermione.

'Miss Black?' asked Dumbledore.

'Okay,' said Arabella. _I'm the thing that Harry will miss the most?_ 'But this is a very bad present Professor.'

'I am truly sorry, Miss Black,' said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling a bit.

'I except a better one after the task,' said Arabella.

'I think I may have something in mind,' said Dumbledore, chuckling a bit.

'What?' said Professor McGonagall, looking back and forth between them.

'The day after the task is my birthday,' said Arabella.

Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes and sighed.

'May we continued, Professor Dumbly-door?' asked Madame Maxime.

'Yes of course,' said Dumbledore. 'If you would all please sit down, close your eyes and relax. This shouldn't take long.'

Arabella, Hermione, Cho and Gabrielle sat down at the chairs, closed their eyes and tried to relax as best as they can while Professor Dumbledore was muttering the spell under his breath.

* * *

Arabella gasped as she emerged from the lake with Gabrielle holding on to her, kicking and screaming. They were a bit far away from the docks were the judges were. Arabella tried to swim there with Gabrielle, but she was too heavy and a bit frightened of the lake.

'Come on, Gabrielle,' panted Arabella, trying to move but nothing was happening, they were sinking. 'We're almost there.'

Gabrielle wasn't listening to her. She kept kicking and clutching on to Arabella for dear life. The weight was soon getting too much of Arabella as they started to sink more and more.

'HELP!' yelled out Arabella, raising her free arm and waving it in the air. 'HELP US!'

She could hear some people screaming very dramatically and others pointing, but nobody did anything. _Idiots _thought Arabella.

'HELP US PLEASE!' screamed Gabrielle, tears coming to her eyes.

Finally, Arabella heard a splash in the water as someone dived from the docks and was swimming to them. She didn't see who it was until they were close to them. It was Ron.

'Here, get on my back,' he gasped to Gabrielle. 'I'll be able to carry you.'

Gabrielle wrapped her arms around his neck as Ron started to swim towards the dock were the crowd was standing, Arabella right behind him.

'Where's Harry?' asked Ron as he helped Gabrielle onto the docks. Fleur dashed towards her and engulfed her into a big hug. Arabella was still in the water.

'There,' said Arabella, pointing back at the lake. Harry was swimming towards them.

'Why did you bring Gabrielle for?' said Arabella, the two of them were still in the water as Ron just got on the dock.

'Fleur didn't turn up, I couldn't leave her,' Harry panted.

Arabella hit him over the head. 'You took that song seriously, didn't you? Dumbledore wouldn't have let any of us drown!'

'The song said -'

'It was only to make sure you got back inside the time limit!' said Ron, holding out a hand to help Arabella onto the dock. 'I hope you didn't waste time down there acting the hero!'

As soon as Arabella got on the docks, she spotted a familiar face, well two really if you included the hyper dog beside him.

'Moony!' exclaimed Arabella, shocked. 'What are you doing here?'

Remus smiled as he hugged Arabella. 'Dumbledore invited me here today as a birthday present to you.'

Sirius, who was disguised as Padfoot, kept tugging on her sleeve, trying to get her attention.

'Professor! What are you doing here?' asked Harry, finally getting out of the water.

'Birthday surprise for Arabella, and you don't have to call me Professor, Harry,' said Remus.

'Yeah, you can call him Remus,' said Arabella. Sirius was still tugging on her sleeve.

'Come here, you three,' said Madam Pomfrey. She seized Arabella, Harry and Ron, and pulled them over to Hermione and the others with Remus and Sirius following them. Madam Pomfrey wrapped them tightly in a blanket and forced a measure of very hot potion down their throats.

Steam gushed out of his ears.

'Harry, well done!' Hermione cried. 'You did it, you found out how all by yourself!'

'Well -' said Harry, stopping himself to reconsider his words. 'Yeah, that's right.'

'You haff a water beetle in your hair, Herm-own-ninny,' said Krum, but Hermione brushed him away.

'You were gone for a very long time, Harry,' said Remus. 'Did it take you that long to find them?'

'No… I found them okay…'

'He was just being a hero,' said Arabella, scratching Sirius's behind the ear.

Dumbledore was crouching at the water's edge, deep in conversation with what seemed to be the chief merperson, a particularly wild and ferocious-looking female. He was making the same sort of screechy noises that the merpeople made when they were above water; clearly, Dumbledore could speak Mermish. Finally he straightened up, turned to his fellow judges, and said, 'A conference before we give the marks, I think.'

The judges went into a huddle. Madam Pomfrey went to fetch Fleur and her sister. Fleur had many cuts on her face and arms and her robes were torn, but she didn't seem to care, nor would she allow Madam Pomfrey to clean them.

'Look after Gabrielle,' she told her, and then she turned to Harry. 'You saved 'er,' she said breathlessly. 'Even though she was not your 'ostage.'

'Yeah,' said Harry.

Fleur bent down, kissed Harry twice on each cheek, and Arabella felt a sudden urge to push her back into the lake. Fleur then turned to Arabella and Ron, 'And you two helped, thank you!' She then kissed Arabella on both her cheeks, and then kissed Ron. Hermione looked simply furious at this, but just then, Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice boomed out beside them, making them all jump, and causing the crowd in the stands to go very quiet.

'Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows…

'Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points.'

Applause from the stands.

'I deserved zero,' said Fleur throatily, shaking her magnificent head.

'Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour.'

Enormous cheers from the Hufflepuffs in the crowd.

'We therefore award him forty-seven points.'

The cheers grew louder.

'Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points.'

Karkaroff clapped particularly hard, looking very superior.

'Harry Potter used gillyweed to great effect,' Bagman continued. 'He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr. Potter was first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own.'

Arabella, Ron, Hermione, Remus and even Sirius gave Harry half-exasperated, half-sympathizing looks.

'Most of the judges,' and here, Bagman gave Karkaroff a very nasty look, 'feel that this shows moral fiber and merits full marks. However…Mr. Potter's score is forty-five points.'

Arabella stared at Harry, along with Ron, Hermione, Remus and Sirius. Then then laughed and started applauding with the rest of the crowd, well Sirius started to bark happily. Harry was now tied for first place with Cedric.

'There you go. Harry!' Ron shouted over the noise. 'You weren't being thick after all - you were showing moral fiber!'

Fleur was clapping very hard too, but Krum didn't look happy at all. He attempted to engage Hermione in conversation again, but she was too busy cheering Harry to listen.

'The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June,' continued Bagman. 'The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions.'

It was over.

'So, when am I going to see you again?' asked Arabella in a very hush tone towards Remus so that only the two of them and Sirius could hear her.

'Next Hogsmeade trip,' mumbled Remus, making sure his lips didn't move that much. 'Anyway,' he said much louder, 'have to go. Things to do, people to see. Bye Ara.' He kissed her forehead.

'Bye Moony,' said Arabella, smiling. She turned to Sirius, whose tongue was hanging out of his mouth with a goofy smile on him. 'Bye Padfoot.' She said, kneeling next to him and giving his a kiss on his forehead.

'Bye Remus,' said Harry, nodding at him and gave a scuffled Sirius's hair. Ron and Hermione gave them both smiles and waved as Remus and Sirius walked towards the gates leading to Hogsmeade.

'Come on, let's go,' said Harry, pulling slightly on Arabella's arm as she watched Remus and Sirius's disappearing form from where they were. She turned to Harry, and gave him a smile. Ron and Hermione went up to the castle with everybody else. They were the only ones still on the school grounds.

'So,' said Arabella, boldly smiling at him, 'I'm your hostage?'

'Yeah,' said Harry as they started to walk back up to the castle. 'Apparently I'd miss you the most. Don't understand why though,' he added, being very dramatic as he questioned what the professors were thinking.

'Piss off,' said Arabella, shoving him as he laughed. 'You'd miss me and you know it.'

'Sure,' said Harry, shrugging as he put his left arm around her shoulder.

* * *

'Wake up!' exclaimed Hermione as three pillows hit her, and continued to do so before she finally sat up.

'What's the hell was that for?' yelled Arabella, glaring at her roommates.

'Happy Birthday!' they yelled, smiling at her.

'Word of advice,' said Arabella, irritated, 'when it's a person birthday AND it's a weekend, don't wake them up at' – she looked at the clock –'ten o'clock in the morning!'

'Come on,' said Hermione, rolling her eyes. 'Let's go for breakfast, you're not going to be able to sleep now.'

As much as she hated to admit it, but Hermione was right. After Lavender and Parvati wished her, and went down to breakfast, Arabella got changed and met Hermione in the common room. Harry and Ron were nowhere to be seen, neither were Fred and George. Some people said happy birthday and some gave hugs, most of them she didn't know.

'They're at the Great Hall for breakfast, we have a surprise for you,' said Hermione, smiling.

'What is it?' asked Arabella as they made their way towards the Great Hall. 'They're not going to jump out and yell surprise in front of everyone, are they?'

'No, no,' said Hermione, shaking her head. 'I'm not telling.'

Arabella and Hermione entered the Great Hall to most of the Gryffindors, some Hufflepuff and Ravenclaws wishing her happy birthday. Ginny, Neville, Seamus and Dean gave her hugs while Fred and George presented her a modified version of the potion she gave them in her first year.

'It's a different version,' said Fred. 'We still using the blue on, but we experimented with different colours.'

'This one will turn your skin pink and your hair turquoise,' said George. 'We got some others that we're working on, but we need to test it on somebody.'

'Impressive,' said Arabella.

It took her a while before she reached Harry and Ron. Ron gave her a very big hug and presented her with what he called 'the birthday breakfast,' which mostly consisted of bacon. Harry also gave her a hug and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Most people mistook it for a friendly kiss. He was holding four parcels.

'This came from Remus,' said Harry handing her the one on top. She opened it to find a photo album with 'Arabella's First Birthday' written at the front. When she opened it, there was a note from Remus and Sirius.

_We found this when we went back to the house at Godric's Hollow. We think you'd find some of the pictures amusing. Happy Birthday! –M&P_

She flipped the page with Harry, Ron and Hermione looking over her shoulder. The first picture was of her, Kassandra and Sirius waving at the camera. The next one was all the Marauders pulling faces at Arabella and Harry, making the two of them laugh. Flipping through the pages, Arabella saw a couple of Sirius holding her and trying to feed her cake at the same time. There was even one of James with cake on his face after Harry smashed it there. There were even ones of Lily gushed over Arabella and the dress she was wearing, and some of Lily trying to tame Harry's hair. There were a couple of Remus holding Arabella and singling quietly to her. Also, there were one of just her and Harry playing with toys on the floor. Arabella made copies of some of them for Harry, who accepted them with a huge smile on his face. Fred and George took the album and gushed very dramatically at all of the pictures and started to pinch Arabella's face and talk baby to her.

'Bugger off,' said Arabella, swatting their hands away and getting back the photo album.

The next package came from Ron and Hermione; they chipped in on the gift together. It was a box full of Chocolate Frogs, Bertis Bott's Every Flavour Beans, some new quills (colourful and ordinary), and a very nice leather bounded book.

'So you can record all your inventions and later share it with other people,' said Hermione.

It was a very good idea, but Arabella doubted whether she was going to show anybody the book. Who know who would be able to steal her ideas?

'It has a lock,' said Hermione, opening the first page to instructions. 'It will only be able to open if it can recognize your wand and the owner of it, that being you. This is the instructions on how to make that work.'

'Nice,' said Arabella, smiling. 'Thank you.'

'I helped pick it too, you know,' said Ron, his face full of eggs.

'Yes, I know, thank you,' said Arabella, smiling at him.

The next one was from Nymph, Andy and Ted. Andy and Ted got her some souvenirs from Italy, France and Greece. They went there over Christmas for an early anniversary trip. Nymph got her a model of a miniature Firebolt. It zoomed all around her just like the real one.

The last gift was probably the smallest out of all the parcels. It was from Harry and it was a stuffed animal of a stag and a wolf.

'Well, I know you have one of a dog, Remus told me,' said Harry, looking a bit nervous. 'So… yeah…' Then his face brightened up when he saw who walked into the Great Hall. Arabella turned around to see Nikola walking towards the Slytherin table. _Why the bloody hell is Harry happy to see Nikola?_ She thought. She turned back to see Harry exchanging significant looks with Fred, George, Ron and Hermione.

'What's going on?' asked Arabella, looking between all of them.

'Just watch,' said Ron, indicating towards Nikola.

Arabella watched Nikola for a while. He was eating some eggs and bacon while talking to the other Durmstrang students.

'What am I watchi -?' And then it happened. 'Holy Mother of Merlin.'

When Fred and George told her that they made some modifications to the potion, she didn't think it would be this… _colourful_ or _amazing_. Nikola's skin started to turn yellow, but then it changed to pink, then blue, purple, green red, and orange. It looked like it was trying to decide on which colour to go with, but went with all of them. Then his hair started to change into a Mohawk that shot up his head with the end of the hair falling all over his head with white highlights in it.

There was a moment of silence as everybody in the Great Hall watched Nikola. The silence was only broken by a Slytherin first year who was practically howling on the floor. The rest of the Great Hall soon followed his lead. The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were laughing with great amusement. They knew that something happened between Arabella and Nikola, something bad. They only people that fully knew the whole story were Harry, Ron and Hermione. The Ravenclaws were a little more discrete, but laughed never the less, and some of the Slytherins laughed.

Arabella laughed as Nikola glared at the Great Hall and left quickly. She then turned back to her friends. Ginny, Neville, Seamus and Dean were laughing, while Fred and George were roaring like lions as they laughed. Harry, Ron and Hermione laughed while clutching their sides and some tears were coming out of Ron's eyes.

'Did you do that?' Arabella asked the whole lot of them, smiling.

'Harry asked us to do it,' said Fred, smiling with a mischievous smile.

'And we happily agreed,' said George, mirroring his brother's smile.

'Harry?' said Arabella, astonished. 'You did this?'

'Yeah,' said Harry, trying to catch his breath and shrugging. 'Nobody should talk to someone like that.'

'Thank you,' said Arabella, grateful. It was truly funny to see Nikola like that.

It was quite an amazing birthday. Arabella, Harry, Ron, and Hermione spent the whole day together with Fred, George, Ginny, Neville, Dean and Seamus occasionally joining them. They first had a snowball rematch with the Arabella, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville against Fred, George, Ginny, Dean and Seamus. It was a very brutal fight, but Arabella's team (Harry was saying that it was really _his_ team because he suggested a rematch) won.

They later went to go visit Hagrid, who gave Arabella a very big hug and made some cakes for them, but they politely declined, saying that Fred and George had something planned for later that day. Fred and George later nicked some food from the kitchen and they spent the rest of the day in the Gryffindor Tower, talking, eating and drinking butterbeer.

It was getting late and one by one people started heading to their dormitories for bed. Soon enough, Arabella and Harry were the last people there. As soon as Ron walked up to his dormitory and they heard the sound of the door closing, Arabella grabbed Harry by his shirt line and gave him a kiss, which he returned happily.

'Thank you,' she said as they broke apart. 'Goodnight.'

''Night,' said Harry, smiling at her as Arabella walked up to her dormitory, feeling happy with how the day turned out.

**Thank you for reading!**


	23. Padfoot and Moony

Padfoot and Moony

As they entered March the weather became drier, but the winds skinned their hands and faces every time they went out onto the grounds. There were delays in the post because the owls kept being blown off course. The brown owl that Harry had sent to Sirius with the dates of the Hogsmeade weekend turned up at breakfast on Friday morning.

Sirius's letter was almost as short as the previous one.

_Be at stile at end of road out of Hogsmeade (past Dervish and Banges) at two o'clock on Saturday afternoon._

'He can't come back again!' said Arabella. 'If he's caught…'

'Made it so far, though, hasn't he?' said Ron. 'And it's not like the place is swarming with dementors anymore.'

Harry folded up the letter and put it inside his robes.

Even though Arabella was worried, she still wanted to see Sirius in his human form again. During the final lesson of the afternoon – double Potions – feeling considerably more cheerful than usual when she was descending the steps to the dungeons.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing in a huddle outside the classroom door with Pansy's gang of Slytherin girls. All of them were looking at something Arabella couldn't see. Pansy's pug-like face looked excitedly around Goyle's back as Arabella, Harry, Ron and Hermione approached.

'There they are, there they are!' she giggled, and the Slytherins broke apart. Arabella saw that Pansy was holding a magazine in her hands – Witch Weekly. She recognized a picture of a boy with a big broken heart in the background.

'You might find something to interest you in there, Black!' Pansy said loudly, and she threw the magazine at Arabella, who caught it. At that moment, the dungeon door opened, and Snape beckoned them all inside.

Arabella, Harry, Ron and Hermione headed for a table at the back of the dungeon as usual. Once Snape had turned his back on them to write up the ingredients of today's potion on the blackboard, Arabella rifled through the magazine under the desk. In the centre pages, Arabella found what they were looking for. Harry, Ron and Hermione leaned in closer.

_Love Triangle or Love Pentagon?: Harry Potter's Secret Heartache_

_A boy like no other, perhaps - yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Rita Skeeter. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had found solace at Hogwarts with his best friends (or something more), Arabella Black, daughter of mass-murdered Sirius Black, and Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss._

_Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last World Quidditch Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has 'never felt this way about any other girl.'_

_However, it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms that have captured these unfortunate boys' interest. _

_'She's really ugly,' says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, 'but she'd be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it.'_

_Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. _

_Meanwhile, Miss Black, a pretty but vicious girl, seems to be following in her family's footsteps and has been reported to have her father's violent tendencies. _

_'She's punched me twice,' said Draco Malfoy, a handsome fourth year student, 'and I really didn't do or say anything to her. She's family, and I've been trying to get close to her, but she's too much like her father.'_

_Miss Black also seems to be like her best friend Miss Granger and also seems to be toying with Harry Potter's heart. With the arrival of Victor Krum came Nikola Stefanov, fellow Durmstrang student and a very handsome young man. _

_'She's pretty but mostly plain,' said Nikola. 'She seems to be more bent on getting Harry Potter jealous. It seemed like our relationship was just a game to her. I wanted to end it as soon as I found out, but she kept insisting that we stay together. She said that I will get to do things to her… intimate things to her if we stayed together, but I ended it right then and there.'_

_The promise of an intimate relationship from Miss Black to mess with Harry's heart, is not surprising considering who she is related to. Among Sirius Black are Bellatrix Lestrange, Regulus Black, Araminta Mehflua, just to name a few. Albus Dumbledore will want to keep a closer eye on her behaviour. _

_It seems to be that these two ambitious girls are hoping to climb the social ladder and is willing to step on Harry Potter along the way. In the meantime, Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he will try his luck on more worthier candidates. _

'She's made me out to be a whore!' hissed angrily at Arabella, her eyes burning with fury as she gripped the article very tightly. She then turned to Hermione, who was looking astonished, and said, 'Hermione, I want you to do everything you can to destroy her. I don't care what you do, blackmail, anything, but break her. Find out anything, and everything you can.'

'She's made you two out to be some sort of - of scarlet women!' hissed Ron.

Hermione stopped looking astonished and snorted with laughter. 'Scarlet women?' she repeated, shaking with suppressed giggles as she looked around at Ron.

'It's what my mum calls them,' Ron muttered, his ears going red.

Arabella threw the article at an empty chair and looked over at the Slytherins, who were watching them closely to see whether or not they were upset by the article. Arabella was upset, but she wasn't going to let the Slytherins see that. Arabella gave a mocking smile and did the princess wave to them before she, Hermione, Harry and Ron started to unpack the ingredients they would need for their Wit-Sharpening Potion.

'You okay?' whispered Harry to Arabella, so that nobody but the two of them would be able to hear.

'No,' said Arabella shortly. 'I'm going to kill Skeeter and Nikola.'

'I'm sorry,' said Harry. 'If we didn't pull that prank on –'

'He still would have done something like this,' said Arabella, cutting his apology off. 'His stupid, egotistical pride got in the way.'

After unpacking their ingredients, they started to work on their potions in silence.

'There's something funny, though,' said Hermione ten minutes later, holding her pestle suspended over a bowl of scarab beetles. 'How could Rita Skeeter have known…?'

'Known what?' said Ron quickly. 'You haven't been mixing up Love Potions, have you?'

'Don't be stupid,' Hermione snapped, starting to pound up her beetles again. 'No, it's just…how did she know Viktor asked me to visit him over the summer?'

Hermione blushed scarlet as she said this and determinedly avoided Ron's eyes.

'What?' said Ron, dropping his pestle with a loud clunk.

'He asked me right after he'd pulled me out of the lake,' Hermione muttered. 'After he'd got rid of his shark's head. Madam Pomfrey gave us both blankets and then he sort of pulled me away from the judges so they wouldn't hear, and he said, if I wasn't doing anything over the summer, would I like to -'

'And what did you say?' said Ron, who had picked up his pestle and was grinding it on the desk, a good six inches from his bowl, because he was looking at Hermione.

'And he did say he'd never felt the same way about anyone else,' Hermione went on, going so red now that Arabella could almost feel the heat coming from her, 'but how could Rita Skeeter have heard him? She wasn't there…or was she? Maybe she has got an Invisibility Cloak; maybe she sneaked onto the grounds to watch the second task…'

'And what did you say?' Ron repeated, pounding his pestle down so hard that it dented the desk.

'Well, I was too busy seeing whether -'

'Fascinating through your social life undoubtedly is Miss Granger,' said an icy voice right behind them, and the four of them jumped, 'I must as you not to discuss it in my class. Ten points from Gryffindor.'

Snape had glided over to their desk while they were talking. The whole class was now looking around at them; Malfoy took the opportunity to flash POTTER STINKS across the dungeon at Harry.

'Ah…reading magazines under the table as well?' Snape added, snatching up the copy of Witch Weekly. 'A further ten points from Gryffindor…oh but of course…' Snapes black eyes glittered as they fell on Rita Skeeter's article. 'Potter has to keep up with his press cuttings…'

The dungeon rang with the Slytherins' laughter, and an unpleasant smile curled Snape's thin mouth. To Arabella's further fury, he began to read the article aloud.

'Love Triangle or Love Pentagon?: Harry Potter's Secret Heartache… dear, dear. Potter, what's ailing you now? A boy like no other, perhaps…'

Arabella could feel her face burning. Snape paused at the end of every sentence to all the Slytherins a hearty laugh. He read Arabella's part with the upmost enthusiasm. It sounded ten times worse.

'She said that I will get to do things to her… intimate things to her… my, my, my Black, following in your mother's footsteps? Or is this your aunt's?' drawled Snape.

'My mother was no whore,' snapped Arabella. 'Nor was my aunt,' she added thinking about Andy.

'Don't be so sure of yourself Black. Your aunt, as that werewolf of yours used to call her Arry affectionately,' drawled Snape, rolling his eyes, 'was no doubly something along the lines.'

'No, she wasn't,' said Arabella, though she had no idea who he was talking about.

Snape ignored her and finished reading the magazine.

''…Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he will try his luck on more worthier candidates...' How very touching,' sneered Snape, rolling up the magazine to continued gales of laughter from the Slytherins. 'Well, I think I had better separate the four of you, so you can keep your minds on your potions rather than on your tangled love lives. Weasley, you stay here. Black, over there, beside Miss Parkinson. Miss Granger, beside Longbottom. Potter - that table in front of my desk. Move. Now.'

Annoyed and furious, Arabella threw her ingredients into her cauldron and dragged it over to Pansy on the right side of the dungeon. Determined not to look at Pansy's pug face, Arabella focused on her potion. Arabella felt that if she looked at Pansy, she would get the urge to take her knife and smash it on her face. Instead, she focused on mashing her scarab beetles, imagining them as Skeeter and Nikola.

'So,' whispered Pansy as she was cutting her beetles rather than mashing them, 'how far do you go with him?'

Arabella ignored her.

'But I do wonder what he did see in you in the first place,' continued Pansy as she added her slice up beetles, 'I mean it's not like you are some great sort of beauty or something and your mother is probably be as ugly.'

'First of all, _your mother would have probably been as ugly _is the correct sentence. If you're going to insult me at least do it properly. It's past tense because, unfortunately, my mother's dead and I'm here stuck with you, a pathetic little pug trying to get some attention by talking to a lame-ass reporter for a stupid magazine. Tell me, what made you talk to Rita Skeeter? The fact that Victor Krum talked to Hermione, a Muggle-born before a pureblood? I bet that really stung, but it was probably because none of the foreign students gave you a second glance or found you uninteresting, am I right? Tell me, which is it?' snapped Arabella, taking a long hard look at Pansy.

Pansy looked furious, but didn't say anything back to Arabella. Pansy just continued on what her work with more anger directed towards potion.

Arabella continued on with her potion with a little smirk on her face. _I come from The Noble and Most Ancient House of Blacks, and we do not take shit from anybody _she thought just as Karkaroff came barging in the classroom and was talking very rapidly to Snape. He was showing something on his left arm at Snape, it seemed to be urgent. He was hovering around Snape for the remainder of class.

As soon as the bell rung, Arabella threw her books and ingredients in her bag and left to catch up with Ron, Hermione and Harry, who was telling them about what Karkaroff wanted.

They left the castle at noon the next day. They went to Gladrags Wizardwear to buy a present for Dobby, where they had fun selecting the most lurid socks they could find, including a pair patterned with flashing gold and silver stars, and another that screamed loudly when they became too smelly. Then, at half past one, they made their way up the High Street, past Dervish and Banges, and out toward the edge of the village.

Arabella had never been in this direction before. They were walking toward the foot of the mountain in whose shadow Hogsmeade lay. Then they turned a corner and saw two stiles at the end of the lane. Waiting for them were Remus Lupin and a very large, shaggy black dog, which was carrying some newspapers in its mouth.

'Hello Remus,' said Harry when they reached the pair. 'Hello Sirius.'

Arabella beamed at the pair of them.

'No more job, Moony?' she asked. 'I thought you were looking for one in York?'

'More important things than a job,' said Remus, shrugging as they began to walk across the scrubby patch of ground that rose to meet the rocky foot of the mountain. 'Like trying to contain Padfoot in a house.'

'I don't blame him,' said Arabella as they climbed over the stile and followed. 'I would hate to be in that place.'

'You know where it is then?' asked Remus as they got higher up onto the mountain.

'Of course I know where it is,' said Arabella. 'Where else would he be able to stay?'

Harry, Ron and Hermione were looking confused as godfather and goddaughter continued on with their conversation as they climbed for nearly half an hour they climbed a steep stoney path.

Then, at last, Sirius slipped out of sight, and when they reached the place where he had vanished, thy saw a narrow fissure. They squeezed into it and found themselves in a cool, dimly lit cave. Inside the cave was Sirius Black, who transformed from the black dog.

Sirius was wearing a plain button up shirt and seemed to be getting some meat back in his bones. His hair seemed shorter and was washed. He pulled the old Daily Prophet from his mouth and hugged Arabella fiercely.

'Do you want me to kill Nikola?' he asked Sirius as he pulled away from her. 'Me and Moony could do it during the full moon.'

'No,' said Arabella firmly. 'What are you two doing here? You already came to the Second Task; this is too risky.'

'I'm fulfilling my duty as a father and a godfather,' said Sirius, grinning at all of them. 'Same goes for Moony. Don't worry about me.' He was still grinning, but seeing the anxiety in Arabella's and Harry's faces, said more seriously, 'I want to be on the spot. Your last letter… well, let's just say things are getting fishier. We've been getting the paper, but by the looks of it, we're not the only one who's getting worried.'

He nodded at the Daily Prophets on the cave floor, and Ron picked it up and unfolded them. Harry, however continued to stare at Sirius.

'What if they catch you? What if you're seen?'

'Don't worry about me,' said Sirius, shrugging. 'I'm fine and safe. This is the second time I've been outside. We wanted to talk to you after the Second Task, but we didn't have much time. The six of us and Dumbledore are the only ones that know I'm an Animagus.'

Ron nudged Harry and passed him the Daily Prophets, Arabella read over his shoulder. There were two: The first bore the headline _Ministry Illness of Bartemius Crouch_, the second, _Ministry Witch Still Missing-Minister of Magic Now Personally Involved. _

Arabella scanned the story about Crouch very quickly. Some phrases jumped out: _hasn't been seen in public since November…house appears deserted…St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries decline comment…Ministry refuses to confirm rumors of critical illness…_

'They're making it sound like he's dying,' said Harry slowly. 'But he can't be that ill if he managed to get up here…'

'My brothers Crouch's personal assistant,' Ron informed Sirius. 'He says Crouch is suffering from overwork.'

'Mind you, he did look ill, last time I saw him up close,' said Harry slowly, still reading the story. 'The night my name came out of the goblet…'

'Getting his comeuppance for sacking Winky, isn't he?' said Hermione, an edge to her voice. 'I bet he wishes he hadn't done it now - bet he feels the difference now she's not there to look after him.'

'Hermione's obsessed with house-elfs,' Ron muttered to Sirius and Remus, casting Hermione a dark look.

Sirius and Remus, however, looked interested.

'Crouch sacked his house-elf?' asked Sirius.

'Yeah, at the Quidditch World Cup,' said Harry, and he launched into the story of the Dark Mark's appearance, and Winky being found with Harry's wand clutched in her hand, Mr. Crouch's fury, and Arabella recognizing the voice. When Harry had finished, Sirius was on his feet again and had started pacing up and down the cave, while Remus was thinking very intently as his eyes were fixed on the floor.

'Let's get this straight,' said Remus after a while. 'You first saw the elf in the Top Box. She was saving Crouch a seat, right?'

'Right,' said Arabella, Harry, Ron, and Hermione together.

'But Crouch didn't turn up for the match?'

'No,' said Harry. 'I think he said he'd been too busy.'

Sirius paced all around the cave in silence. Then he said, 'Harry, did you check your pockets for your wand after you'd left the Top Box?'

'Erm…' Harry thought hard. 'No,' he said finally. 'I didn't need to use it before we got in the forest. And then I put my hand in my pocket, and all that was in there were my Omnioculars.'

He stared at Sirius. 'Are you saying whoever conjured the Mark stole my wand in the Top Box?'

'It's possible,' said Sirius.

'Winky didn't steal that wand!' Hermione insisted.

'The elf wasn't the only one in that box,' said Sirius, his brow furrowed as he continued to pace.

'Who else was sitting behind you?'

'Loads of people,' said Harry. 'Some Bulgarian ministers…Cornelius Fudge…the Malfoys…'

'The Malfoys!' said Ron suddenly, so loudly that his voice echoed all around the cave, and Buckbeak tossed his head nervously. 'I bet it was Lucius Malfoy!'

'Anyone else?' said Remus.

'No one,' said Harry.

'Yes, there was Ludo Bagman,' said Arabella.

'Oh yeah…'

'Ludo Bagman,' scoffed Sirius. 'Never trust him with anything. He'll tell the whole wizarding world what going on with your life every chance he gets.'

'What?' asked Harry. 'Why?'

'Ludo Bagman is the reason why Sirius and Kassandra had to go into hiding. He accidently blurted out some information about Kassandra to some Death Eaters, and they had to go into hiding,' said Remus. 'Sirius never forgave him for that.'

'What?' yelled Arabella, Harry, Ron and Hermione. _Rita bloody Skeeter was right…_

'But he seems okay,' said Harry. 'He keeps offering to help me with the Triwizard Tournament.'

'Does he, now?' said Remus, frowning. 'I wonder why he'd do that.'

'Says he's taken a liking to me,' said Harry.

'Hmm,' said Remus, looking thoughtful.

'We saw him in the forest just before the Dark Mark appeared,' Hermione told Sirius. 'Remember?' she said to Arabella, Harry and Ron.

'Yeah, but he didn't stay in the forest, did he?' said Ron. 'The moment we told him about the riot, he went off to the campsite.'

'How do you know?' shot back Hermione. 'It's more likey he did it then Winky. He did blurt out important information to Death Eaters without thinking.'

'Told you,' said Ron, looking meaningfully at Sirius and Remus, 'told you she's obsessed with house -'

But Remus held up a hand to silence Ron.

'When the Dark Mark had been conjured, and the elf had been discovered holding Harry's wand, what did Crouch do?'

'Went to look in the bushes,' said Harry, 'but there wasn't anyone else there.'

'Of course,' Sirius muttered, pacing up and down, 'of course, he'd want to pin it on anyone but his own elf…and then he sacked her?'

'Yes,' said Hermione in a heated voice, 'he sacked her, just because she hadn't stayed in her tent and let herself get trampled -'

'Hermione, will you give it a rest with the elf!' said Ron.

Sirius shook his head and said, 'She's got the measure of Crouch better than you have, Ron. If you want to know what a mans like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.'

He ran a hand over his face, evidently thinking hard.

'All these absences of Barty Crouch's…he goes to the trouble of making sure his house-elf saves him a seat at the Quidditch World Cup, but doesn't bother to turn up and watch. He works very hard to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament, and then stops coming to that too…It's not like Crouch. If he's ever taken a day off work because of illness before this, I'll eat Buckbeak.'

'D'you know Crouch, then?' said Harry.

Sirius, Remus and Arabella's faces darkened. Sirius looked like they murdered he was believed to be, while Remus looked like the werewolf society depicts him to be. Arabella looked as much as a Black at that moment than Sirius and you could almost see the resemblance between her and Bellatrix Lestrange.

'Oh I know Crouch all right,' Sirius said quietly. 'He was the one who gave the order for me to be sent to Azkaban - without a trial.'

'What?' said Ron and Hermione together.

'You're kidding!' said Harry.

'No, I'm not,' said Sirius. 'Crouch used to be Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, didn't you know?'

Harry, Ron, and Hermione shook their heads.

'He was tipped for the next Minister of Magic,' said Sirius. 'He's a great wizard, Barty Crouch, powerfully magical - and power-hungry. Oh never a Voldemort supporter,' he said, reading the look on Harry's face. 'No, Barty Crouch was always very outspoken against the Dark Side. But then a lot of people who were against the Dark Side…well, you wouldn't understand…you're too young…'

'That's what my dad said at the World Cup,' said Ron, with a trace of irritation in his voice. 'Try us, why don't you?'

A grin flashed across Sirius's face.

'Should I take this Moony, or do you want to take a stab at it?' asked Sirius, as he turned to Remus.

'No, no, go ahead,' said Remus, gesturing him to continue.

'All right, I'll try you…' He walked once up the cave, back again, and then said, 'Imagine that Voldemort's powerful now. You don't know who his supporters are, you don't know who's working for him and who isn't; you know he can control people so that they do terrible things without being able to stop themselves. You're scared for yourself, and your family, and your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing…the Ministry of Magic's in disarray, they don't know what to do, they're trying to keep everything hidden from the Muggles, but meanwhile, Muggles are dying too. Terror everywhere…panic…confusion…that's how it used to be.

'Well, times like that bring out the best in some people and the worst in others. Crouch's principles might've been good in the beginning - I wouldn't know. He rose quickly through the Ministry, and he started ordering very harsh measures against Voldemorts supporters. The Aurors were given new powers - powers to kill rather than capture, for instance. And I wasn't the only one who was handed straight to the dementors without trial. Crouch fought violence with violence, and authorized the use of the Unforgivable Curses against suspects. I would say he became as ruthless and cruel as many on the Dark Side. He had his supporters, mind you - plenty of people thought he was going about things the right way, and there were a lot of witches and wizards clamoring for him to take over as Minister of Magic. When Voldemort disappeared, it looked like only a matter of time until Crouch got the top job. But then something rather unfortunate happened a while later. Crouch's own son was caught with a group of Death Eaters who'd managed to talk their way out of Azkaban. Apparently they were trying to find Voldemort and return him to power.'

'Crouch's son was caught?' gasped Hermione.

'You never told them?' asked Remus towards Arabella. Sirius looked away at this.

'I told them about Bellatrix,' said Arabella, she then turned to Harry, Ron and Hermione. 'Barty Crouch Jr. was caught torturing with Bellatrix Lestrange, her husband Rodolphus and his brother Rabastan Lestrange. They're the ones who tortured my mother.'

'Crouch's son was a Death Eater?' said Harry.

'Yup,' said Arabella. 'Full-fledged Death Eater.'

'He tried to pass it off like he was innocent during the trial, but after getting the memory from Arabella, they managed to convict Crouch Jr.,' said Remus. 'They saw him cast the Cruciatus Cure on Kassandra. He wouldn't have gotten out of that one.'

'Nasty little shock for old Barty, I'd imagine,' said Sirius bitterly. 'Should have spent a bit more time at home with his family, shouldn't he? Ought to have left the office early once in a while…gotten to know his own son.'

'Didn't Crouch try and get his son off?' Hermione whispered.

Sirius let out a laugh that was much more like a bark.

'Crouch let his son off? I thought you had the measure of him, Hermione! Anything that threatened to tarnish his reputation had to go; he had dedicated his whole life to becoming Minister of Magic. You saw him dismiss a devoted house-elf because she associated him with the Dark Mark again - doesn't that tell you what he's like? Crouch's fatherly affection stretched just far enough to give his son a trial, and by all accounts, it wasn't much more than an excuse for Crouch to show how much he hated the boy…then he sent him straight to Azkaban.'

'He gave his own son to the dementors?' asked Harry quietly.

'That's right,' said Sirius, and he didn't look remotely amused now. 'I saw the dementors bringing him in, watched them through the bars in my cell door. He can't have been more than nineteen. They took him into a cell near mine. He was screaming for his mother by nightfall. He went quiet after a few days, though…they all went quiet in the end…except when they shrieked in their sleep…'

For a moment, the deadened look in Sirius's eyes became more pronounced than ever, as though shutters had closed behind them.

'So he's still in Azkaban?' Harry said.

'No,' said Sirius dully. 'No, he's not in there anymore. He died about a year after they brought him in.'

'He died?' asked Arabella.

'He wasn't the only one,' said Sirius bitterly. 'Most go mad in there, and plenty stop eating in the end. They lose the will to live. You could always tell when a death was coming, because the dementors could sense it, they got excited. That boy looked pretty sickly when he arrived. Crouch being an important Ministry member, he and his wife were allowed a deathbed visit. That was the last time I saw Barty Crouch, half carrying his wife past my cell. She died herself, apparently, shortly afterward. Grief. Wasted away just like the boy. Crouch never came for his son's body. The dementors buried him outside the fortress; I watched them do it.'

'Crouch lost it all, just as he was about to make it,' said Remus. 'One moment, a hero, poised to become Minister of Magic… next, his son dead, his wife dead, the family name dishonored, and a big drop in popularity. Once Crouch Jr. had died, people started feeling a bit more sympathetic toward the son and started asking how a nice young lad from a good family had gone down the wrong path. The conclusion was that his father never cared much for him. So Cornelius Fudge got the top job, and Crouch was pushed into the Department of International Magical Cooperation.'

There was a long silence.

'Moody says Crouch is obsessed with catching Dark wizards,' Harry told Sirius and Remus.

'Yeah, I've heard it's become a bit of a mania with him,' said Sirius, nodding. 'If you ask me, he still thinks he can bring back the old popularity by catching one more Death Eater.'

'And he sneaked up here to search Snape's office!' said Ron triumphantly, looking at Hermione.

'Yes, and that doesn't make sense at all,' said Sirius.

'Yeah, it does!' said Ron excitedly, but Sirius and Remus shook their heads.

'Listen, if Crouch wants to investigate Snape, why hasn't he been coming to judge the tournament? It would be an ideal excuse to make regular visits to Hogwarts and keep an eye on him,' said Sirius.

'So you think Snape could be up to something, then?' asked Harry, but Hermione broke in.

'Look, I don't care what you say, Dumbledore trusts Snape -'

'Oh give it a rest, Hermione,' said Ron impatiently. 'I know Dumbledore's brilliant and everything, but that doesn't mean a really clever Dark wizard couldn't fool him -'

'Why did Snape save Harry's life in the first year, then? Why didn't he just let him die?'

'I dunno - maybe he thought Dumbledore would kick him out-'

'What d'you think, Sirius?' Harry said loudly, and Ron and Hermione stopped bickering to listen.

'I think they've both got a point,' said Sirius, looking thoughtfully at Ron and Hermione. 'Ever since I found out Snape was teaching here, I've wondered why Dumbledore hired him. Snape's always been fascinated by the Dark Arts, he was famous for it at school. Slimy, oily, greasy-haired kid, he was,' Sirius added, and Arabella, Harry and Ron grinned at each other. 'Snape knew more curses when he arrived at school than half the kids in seventh year, and he was part of a gang of Slytherins who nearly all turned out to be Death Eaters. Who were they again, Moony?'

'Rosier and Wilkes – they were both killed by Aurors the year before Voldemort fell. The Lestranges – you know them. Avery – he apparently got out of trouble by saying that he was under the Imperius Curse the whole time – he's still at large. But as far as I know, Severus was never even accused of being a Death Eater,' said Remus.

'Not that that means much,' said Sirius. 'Plenty of them were never caught. And Snape's certainly clever and cunning enough to keep himself out of trouble.'

'Snape knows Karkaroff pretty well, but he wants to keep that quiet,' said Ron.

'Yeah, you should've seen Snape's face when Karkaroff turned up in Potions yesterday!' said Harry quickly. 'Karkaroff wanted to talk to Snape, he says Snape's been avoiding him. Karkaroff looked really worried. He showed Snape something on his arm, but I couldn't see what it was.'

'He showed Snape something on his arm?' said Sirius, looking frankly bewildered. He ran his fingers distractedly through his filthy hair, then shrugged again. 'Well, I've no idea what that's about…but if Karkaroff's genuinely worried, and he's going to Snape for answers… There's still the fact that Dumbledore trusts Snape, and I know Dumbledore trusts where a lot of other people wouldn't, but I just can't see him letting Snape teach at Hogwarts if he'd ever worked for Voldemort.'

'Why are Moody and Crouch so keen to get into Snape's office then?' said Ron stubbornly.

'It's Mad-Eye,' said Arabella, as though that should solve every problem in the world. 'He takes his job very seriously. He doesn't trust many people, especially after all he saw when he was working as an Auror.'

'He's never kill if he could help it,' said Remus. 'Always brought people in alive where possible. He was tough, but he never descended to the level of a death Eater. Crouch, though… he's a different matter… is he really ill? If he is, why did he make the effort to drag himself up to Snape's office? And if he's not…what's he up to? What was he doing at the World Cup that was so important he didn't turn up in the Top Box? What's he been doing while he should have been judging the tournament?'

They lapsed into silence. Finally, Sirius looked up at Ron.

'You say your brother's Crouch's personal assistant? Any chance you could ask him if he's seen Crouch lately?'

'I can try,' said Ron doubtfully. 'Better not make it sound like I reckon Crouch is up to anything dodgy, though. Percy loves Crouch.'

'And you might try and find out whether they've got any leads on Bertha Jorkins while you're at it,' said Sirius, gesturing to the second copy of the Daily Prophet.

'Bagman told me they hadn't,' said Harry.

'Yeah, blabbering fool's been going on about how bad Bertha's memory is. Well, maybe she's changed since I knew her, but the Bertha we knew wasn't forgetful at all - quite the reverse. She was a bit dim, but she had an excellent memory for gossip. It used to get her into a lot of trouble; she never knew when to keep her mouth shut. I can see her being a bit of a liability at the Ministry of Magic…maybe that's why Bagman didn't bother to look for her for so long…'

Remus was looking as though they had forgotten some important information.

'Harry, did you say anything else?' asked Remus.

'No,' said Harry.

'Yes you did,' said Hermione, sternly, and then turned to Arabella. 'You recognized the voice that summoned the Dark Mark.'

'Yeah, but it's not like I can remember who it is,' said Arabella, shrugging.

'But –'

'I have a couple questions,' said Arabella, turning her full attention towards Sirius and Remus. 'Did mom know Voldemort and who is Arry?'

Sirius and Remus seemed to have paled considerably. Sirius's eyes seemed to have gotten darker as Remus was looking at her as though he saw a ghost.

'Who told you about that?' said Sirius.

'Harry heard Voldemort mention something about it during his dream, and Snape mentioned Arry,' said Arabella. 'Who is she? How does mom know Voldemort?'

'This is not the time to be talking about this,' said Remus harshly, getting up. 'It's time to go.'

'But we –'

'I agree,' said Sirius, getting up. 'It's time you got back to school.'

He turned back into the black dog and walked out of the cave with Remus right behind him.

'What was that?' said Ron as they got up and followed Sirius and Remus.

'No idea,' said Arabella. 'Let's just go.'

They walked back down the mountainside, across the boulder-like ground, and back to the stile with Remus and Sirius walked in front of them. Somewhere along the walk Remus and Sirius seemed to have calm down considerable and was determined to forget about the last couple minutes of their conversation.

'Now listen…' said Remus, looking at all of them. 'I – we – don't want you lot sneaking out of school to me us, all right? Just send notes. We still want to hear about anything odd. But don't leave Hogwarts without permission. It would be an ideal opportunity for someone to attack you, Harry.'

'No one's tried to attack me so far, except a dragon and a couple of grindylows,' Harry said, but Remus scowled at him.

'I don't care… Everything will be better when this tournament's over and that's not until June. And if you're talking about Sirius amongst yourselves, call him Snuffles, okay?'

Arabella and Ron snorted, remembering the time the Weasleys picked her up before the Quidditch World Cup, but nodded with Harry and Hermione.

Each of them patted Sirius on his head. Remus and Arabella hugged as Harry, Ron and Hermione shook his hands. Sirius and Remus turned around and set back along the outskirts of the village as they made their way back into Hogsmeade and up toward Hogwarts.

On the way, Arabella saw someone she's been meaning to see again for some time. Well, since yesterday.

Arabella broke off from Harry, Ron and Hermione, and walked behind Nikola as he was talking to a third year. She tapped him on his left shoulder blade lightly. As he was turning around, Arabella gave him one big punch on his nose with her right hand. He gave a small yell of surprise and fell to the ground. The third year took a couple steps backwards before heading inside one of the stores after looking at Arabella's face.

'Arabella!' said a voice that sounded like Hermione, but she wasn't paying attention.

'Stay away from me,' said Arabella in a voice that was not entirely her own. 'Stay away from my friends. If you talk to another reporter again, I will tell Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall about what happened that night, and they will definitely tell Karkaroff' – Nikola's eyes widened –'terrified of him, are you? Well, imagine him, McGonagall and Dumbledore coming after you. Ten time worse.'

Arabella made a motion of kicking him on the side. She wasn't going to kick him, just wanted to scare him a bit. Nikola made a sound that sounded like a scared mouse. Arabella smirked before moving around his body and walked back to Harry, Ron and Hermione, who had a scandalized face.

'Let's go back, shall we?' asked Arabella.

Ron gave s snorting sort of laugh as Hermione gave a disapproving sort of hum. Harry offered his right arm as Arabella looped her left arm around his as they walked back to the castle. Ron and Hermione exchanged significant looks, but said nothing.

**Thank you for reading!**


	24. The Madness of Mr Crouch and the Dream

The Madness of Mr Crouch and the Dream

Arabella, Harry, Ron, and Hermione went up to the Owlery after breakfast on Sunday to send a letter to Percy, asking whether he had seen Mr Crouch lately. They used Hedwig, because it had been so long since she'd had a job. When they had watched her fly out of sight through the Owlery window, they proceeded down to the kitchen to give Dobby his new socks.

The house-elves gave them a very cheery welcome, bowing and curtsying and bustling around making tea again. Dobby was ecstatic about his present.

'Harry Potter is too good to Dobby!' he squeaked, wiping large tears out of his enormous eyes.

'You saved my life with that gillyweed, Dobby, you really did,' said Harry.

'No chance of more of those eclairs, is there?' said Ron, who was looking around at the beaming and bowing house-elves.

'You've just had breakfast!' said Hermione irritably, but a great silver platter of eclairs was already zooming toward them, supported by four elves. 'Dobby, where's Winky?' she added, looking around.

'Winky is over there by the fire, miss,' said Dobby quietly, his ears drooping slightly.

'Oh dear,' said Hermione as she spotted Winky.

Arabella looked over at the fireplace too. Winky was sitting on the same stool as last time, but she looked very filthy, her clothes were ragged an unwashed. She was clutching a bottle of butterbear and swaying slightly on her stool, staring into the fireplace. As they watched her, she gave an enormous hiccup.

'Winky is getting through six bottles a day now,' whispered Dobby.

'But butterbear's not strong,' said Arabella.

Dobby shook his head. ''Tis strong for a house-elf, miss,' he said.

Winky hiccupped again. The elves who had brought the eclairs gave her disapproving looks as they returned to work.

'Winky is pining,' Dobby whispered sadly. 'Winky wants to go home. Winky still thinks Mr Crouch is her master, sir, and nothing Dobby says will persuade her that Professor Dumbledore is her master now.'

'Hey, Winky,' said Harry suddenly, walking over to her and bending down, 'you don't know what Mr Crouch might be up to, do you? Because he's stopped turning up to judge the Triwizard Tournament.'

Winky's eyes flickered. Her enormous pupils focused on Harry. She swayed slightly again and then said, 'M - Master is stopped - hic - coming?'

'Yeah,' said Harry, 'we haven't seen him since the first task. The Daily Prophet's saying he's ill.'

Winky swayed some more, staring blurrily at Harry.

'Master- hic- ill?'

Her bottom lip began to tremble.

'But we're not sure if that's true,' said Hermione quickly.

'Master is needing his - his - Winky!' whimpered the elf. 'Master cannot - hic - manage - hic - all by himself…'

'Other people manage to do their own housework, you know, Winky,' Hermione said severely.

'Winky - hic - is not only - hic - doing housework for Mr. Crouch!' Winky squeaked indignantly, swaying worse than ever and slopping butterbeer down her already heavily stained blouse. 'Master is - hic - trusting Winky with - hic – the most important - hic - the most secret…'

'What?' said Harry.

But Winky shook her head very hard, spilling more butterbeer down herself.

'Winky keeps - hic - her master's secrets,' she said mutinously, swaying very heavily now, frowning up at Harry with her eyes crossed. 'You is - hic - nosing, you is.'

'Winky must not talk like that to Harry Potter!' said Dobby angrily. 'Harry Potter is brave and noble and Harry Potter is not nosy!'

'He is nosing - hic - into my master's - hic - private and secret - hic - Winky is a good house-elf- hic - Winky keeps her silence - hic - people trying to - hic – pry and poke - hic -'

Winky's eyelids drooped and suddenly, without warning, she slid off her stool into the hearth, snoring loudly. The empty bottle of butterbeer rolled away across the stone-flagged floor. Half a dozen house-elves came hurrying forward, looking disgusted. One of them picked up the bottle; the others covered Winky with a large checked tablecloth and tucked the ends in neatly, hiding her from view.

'We is sorry you had to see that, sirs and miss!' squeaked a nearby elf, shaking his head and looking very ashamed. 'We is hoping you will not judge us all by Winky, sirs and miss!'

'She's unhappy!' said Hermione, exasperated. 'Why don't you try and cheer her up instead of covering her up?'

'Begging your pardon, miss,' said the house-elf, bowing deeply again, 'but house-elves has no right to be unhappy when there is work to be done and masters to be served.'

'Oh for heavens sake!' Hermione cried. 'Listen to me, all of you! You've got just as much right as wizards to be unhappy! You've got the right to wages and holidays and proper clothes, you don't have to do everything you're told - look at Dobby!'

'Miss will please keep Dobby out of this,' Dobby mumbled, looking scared. The cheery smiles had vanished from the faces of the house-elves around the kitchen. They were suddenly looking at Hermione as though she were mad and dangerous.

'We has your extra food!' squeaked an elf at Harry's elbow, and he shoved a large ham, a dozen cakes, and some fruit into Harry's arms. 'Good-bye!'

The house-elves crowded around Arabella, Harry, Ron, and Hermione and began shunting them out of the kitchen, many little hands pushing in the smalls of their backs.

'Thank you for the socks, Harry Potter!' Dobby called miserably from the hearth, where he was standing next to the lumpy tablecloth that was Winky.

'You couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you, Hermione?' said Ron angrily as the kitchen door slammed shut behind them. 'They won't want us visiting them now! We could've tried to get more stuff out of Winky about Crouch!'

'Oh as if you care about that!' scoffed Hermione. 'You only like coming down here for the food!'

It was an irritable sort of day as Ron and Hermione kept bickering at each other. Arabella got tired of it, and by the look on Harry's face, he did too. In the end, it was the two of them that finished the food the house-elves gave to them.

* * *

By breakfast the next day Ron's and Hermione's bad moods had burnt out, and to Arabella' relief, Ron's dark predictions that the house-elves would send substandard food up to the Gryffindor table because Hermione had insulted them proved false; the bacon, eggs, and kippers were quite as good as usual.

When the post owls arrived, Hermione looked up eagerly; she seemed to be expecting something.

'Percy won't've had time to answer yet,' said Ron. 'We only sent Hedwig yesterday.'

'No, it's not that,' said Hermione. 'I've taken out a subscription to the Daily Prophet. I'm getting sick of finding everything out from the Slytherins.'

'Good thinking!' said Harry, also looking up at the owls. 'Hey, Hermione, I think you're in luck -'

A gray owl was soaring down toward them.

'It hasn't got a newspaper, though,' she said, looking disappointed. 'It's -'

The gray owl landed in front of Arabella's plate, closely followed by four barn owls, a brown owl and a tawny.

'What the -?' Arabella said, taking the letter from the gray owl, opening it, and starting to read. 'Really?!'

'What's up?' said Ron.

Arabella cleared her throat, and said in a very high pitched annoying voice, 'You are a wicked girl, Black. Harry Potter deserves better than a murderer's daughter. Hope you rot in Azkaban, you horrible, ugly swine.'

Arabella opened the rest of them; most of them were for her, and one for Hermione. They seemed to think that Harry being in love with Arabella to be an insult to themselves.

'Harry Potter can do much better than the likes of you... You deserve to burn in hell… OUCH!'

Arabella opened the last envelope and a yellowish-green liquid that smelled strongly of petrol gushed over her hands, which began to erupt in large yellow boils.

'Undiluted bubotuber pus!' said Ron, picking up the envelope gingerly and sniffing it.

'OW!' said Arabella as she tried to rub the pus off her hands with a napkin, but her fingers were now thickly covered in painful sore.

'You'd better get up to the hospital wing,' said Harry as the owls around her took flight. 'We'll tell Professor Sprout where you've gone…'

'I'll come,' said Hermione, getting up and walking beside Arabella as they walked to the hospital wing.

'What did your letter say?' asked Arabella as tears started in her eyes when she tried to cover her hands.

'Just that I was unworthy of Harry's love,' said Hermione, rolling her eyes. 'It's really stupid. They seem to hate you more.'

'Probably think that I would make our kids join Voldemort and follow in my father's footsteps, killing everyone,' spat out Arabella as they reached the hospital wing.

Hermione explained what happened to Madam Pomfrey and she got to work immediately. She kept muttering under her breath about the stupidity of the people who sent her the letters. Arabella kept insisting that Hermione go to Herbology, but Hermione refused, telling her to shut up and stay still.

It took a while before the pus managed to some-what settle down, but her hand was still swollen. Some of the boils were still there, but Madam Pomfrey said that they should be gone in a couple days, and wrapped her hands heavily in bandages.

Arabella and Hermione missed Herbology and managed to make it half way through Care of Magical Creatures.

'I on'y buried a hundred coins. Oh there yer two are!' said Hagrid as soon as he spotted them. 'Well, let's check how yeh've done! Count yer coins! An' there's no point tryin' ter steal any, Goyle. It's leprechaun gold. Vanishes after a few hours.'

Goyle emptied his bodies, looking extremely sulky. Whatever Arabella and Hermione missed sounded fun. They apparently had a competition of some sorts and Ron won, earning an enormous slab of Honeydukes chocolate for a prize. The bell rang across the grounds for lunch; the rest of the class set off back to the castle, but Arabella, Hermione, Harry and Ron stayed behind to help Hagrid put the nifflers back in their boxes.

'What yeh done ter your hands, Arabella?' said Hagrid, looking concerned.

Arabella scowled as Hermione told him about the hate mail they both had received that morning, and the envelope full of bubotuber pus.

'Aaag, don' worry, Arabella,' said Hagrid gently, looking down at her. 'I got some o' those letter an all, after Rita Skeeter wrote abou' me mum. 'Yeh're a monster an' yeh should be put down.' 'Yer mother killed innocent people an' if you had any decency you'd jump in a lake.''

'No!' said Hermione, shocked.

'Yeah,' said Hagrid, heaving the niffler crates over by his cabin wall. 'They're jus' nutters, Arabella. Don' open 'em if yeh get any more. Chuck 'em straigh' in the fire.'

'You missed a really good lesson,' Harry told Arabella and Hermione as they headed back toward the castle. 'They're good, nifflers, aren't they, Ron?'

Ron, however, was frowning at the chocolate Hagrid had given him. He looked thoroughly put out about something.

'What's the matter?' said Harry. 'Wrong flavor?'

'No,' said Ron shortly. 'Why didn't you tell me about the gold?'

'What gold?' said Harry.

'The gold I gave you at the Quidditch World Cup,' said Ron. 'The leprechaun gold I gave you for my Omnioculars. In the Top Box. Why didn't you tell me it disappeared?'

Arabella had no idea what Ron was talking about until Harry said, 'I dunno… I never noticed it had gone. I was more worried about my wand, wasn't I?'

They climbed the steps into the entrance hall and went into the Great Hall for lunch.

'Must be nice,' Ron said abruptly, when they had sat down and started serving themselves roast beef and Yorkshire puddings. 'To have so much money you don't notice if a pocketful of Galleons goes missing.'

'Listen, I had other stuff on my mind that night!' said Harry impatiently. 'We all did, remember?'

'I didn't know leprechaun gold vanishes,' Ron muttered. 'I thought I was paying you back. You shouldn't've given me that Chudley Cannon hat for Christmas.'

'Forget it, all right?' said Harry

Ron speared a roast potato on the end of his fork, glaring at it. Then he said, 'I hate being poor.'

Arabella, Harry and Hermione looked at each other. Neither of them really knew what to say.

'It's rubbish,' said Ron, still glaring down at his potato. 'I don't blame Fred and George for trying to make some extra money. Wish I could. Wish I had a niffler.'

'Well, we know what to get you next Christmas,' said Hermione brightly. Then, when Ron continued to look gloomy, she said, 'Come on, Ron, it could be worse. At least your fingers aren't full of pus.'

'Gee, thanks for reminding me, Hermione,' said Arabella sarcastically as she was having a lot of difficulty managing her knife and fork. Her fingers were really stiff and swollen. 'That bloody Skeeter woman!' she burst out as a big piece of chicken fell on her robes, and slammed her knife and fork down on the table hard. 'Hermione'll get her back for this. Won't you Hermione?'

'And what makes you think that?' said Hermione, even though Arabella already knew she was plotting ways in getting Rita Skeeter back.

'Because you hate her as much as me,' said Arabella.

Hate mail continued to arrive over the following week. Some of them were for Hermione, but most were for Arabella. Neither one of them had opened a single one, but there were several Howlers that they couldn't stop. They exploded at the Gryffindor table and shrieked insults at Arabella about her father, her godfather, how ugly she was and how Harry Potter deserved better for the whole Great Hall to hear. It was getting harder to listen to them.

'It'll die down, though,' he told Arabella, 'if we just ignore it…People got bored with that stuff she wrote about me last time.'

'I want to know how she's listening into private conversations when she's supposed to be banned from the grounds!' said Hermione angrily.

Hermione hung back in their next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson to ask Professor Moody something. The rest of the class was very eager to leave; Moody had given them such a rigorous test of hex-deflection that many of them were nursing small injuries. Arabella had such a bad case of Twitchy Eyes, she had to hold one of her hand over them and the other one on Harry's arm as she walked away from the class.

'Well, Rita's definitely not using an Invisibility Cloak!' Hermione panted five minutes later, catching up with Arabella, Harry and Ron in the entrance hall and pulling Arabella's hand away from one of her twitching eyes so that he could hear her. 'Moody says he didn't see her anywhere near the judges' table at the second task, or anywhere near the lake!'

'Hermione, is there any point in telling you to drop this?' said Ron.

'No!' said Hermione and Arabella.

'I want to know how she heard me talking to Viktor! And how she found out about Hagrid's mum!' said Hermione.

'Maybe she had you bugged,' said Harry.

'Bugged?' said Ron blankly. 'What…put fleas on her or something?'

Harry started explaining about hidden microphones and recording equipment. Ron was fascinated, but Hermione interrupted them.

'Aren't you two ever going to read Hogwarts, A History?'

'What's the point?' said Ron. 'You know it by heart, we can just ask you.'

'All those substitutes for magic Muggles use - electricity, computers, and radar, and all those things - they all go haywire around Hogwarts, there's too much magic in the air. No, Rita's using magic to eavesdrop, she must be…If I could just find out what it is…ooh, if it's illegal, I'll have her…'

'Haven't we got enough to worry about?' Ron asked her. 'Do we have to start a vendetta against Rita Skeeter as well?'

'I'm not asking you to help!' Hermione snapped. 'I'll do it on my own!'

She marched back up the marble staircase without a backward glance. Arabella was quite sure she was going to the library.

'What's the betting she comes back with a box of I Hate Rita Skeeter badges?' said Ron.

Hermione, however, did not ask Arabella, Harry, and Ron to help her pursue vengeance against Rita Skeeter, for which they were grateful, because their workload was mounting ever higher in the days before the Easter holidays. Arabella was in awe with the fact that Hermione could research magical methods of eavesdropping as well as everything else they had to do. She was struggling to get through all their homework, and Harry and Ron were in the same situation.

Hedwig didn't return until the end of the Easter holidays. Percy's letter was enclosed in a package of Easter eggs that Mrs. Weasley had sent. Both Harry's and Ron's were the size of dragon eggs and full of homemade toffee. Hermione's was smaller than a chicken egg and Arabella didn't get anything.

'Your mom doesn't read Witch Weekly, by any chance, does she, Ron?' Arabella asked quietly.

'Yeah,' said Ron, whose mouth was full of toffee. 'Gets it for the recipes.'

Arabella looked sadly at the ground as Hermione did the same at her tiny egg.

'Don't you want to see what Percy's written?' Harry asked her hastily.

Percy's letter was short and irritated.

_As I am constantly telling the Daily Prophet, Mr. Crouch is taking a well-deserved break. He is sending in regular owls with instructions. No, I haven't actually seen him, but I think I can be trusted to know my own superior's handwriting. I have quite enough to do at the moment without trying to quash these ridiculous rumors. _

_Please don't bother me again unless it's something important. Happy Easter._

* * *

The start of the summer term meant that the third and final task in the Triwizard Tournament was coming up. On the last week of May, Harry had to left eh Gryffindor Tower at half-past eight to go down to the Quidditch field with Bagman and the rest of the champions, something regarding the third task. Couple hours later, Harry returned back and hurried straight for where they were sitting and told them everything.

* * *

'It comes down to this,' said Hermione, rubbing her forehead. 'Either Mr. Crouch attacked Viktor, or somebody else attacked both of them when Viktor wasn't looking.'

'It must've been Crouch,' said Ron at once. 'That's why he was gone when Harry and Dumbledore got there. He'd done a runner.'

'I don't think so,' said Harry, shaking his head. 'He seemed really weak - I don't reckon he was up to Disapparating or anything.'

'You can't Disapparate on the Hogwarts grounds, haven't I told you enough times?' said Hermione.

'Okay…hows this for a theory,' said Ron excitedly. 'Krum attacked Crouch - no, wait for it - and then Stunned himself!'

'And then he suddenly evaporated in thin air?' said Arabella coldly.

'Oh yeah…'

It was daybreak. Arabella, Harry, Ron and Hermione had crept out of their dormitories very early and hurried up to the Owlery to send a note to Sirius and Remus. Now they were standing looking out at the misty grounds. All four of them were puffy-eyed and pale because they had been talking late into the night about Mr. Crouch.

'Let's just go through it again one more time, Harry,' said Arabella. 'What did Crouch say exactly?'

'I've told you, he wasn't making much sense,' said Harry. 'He said he wanted to warn Dumbledore about something. He definitely mentioned Bertha Jorkins, and he seemed to think she was dead. He kept saying stuff was his fault…He mentioned his son.'

'Well, that was his fault,' said Hermione testily.

'He was out of his mind,' said Harry. 'Half the time he seemed to think his wife and son were still alive, and he kept talking to Percy about work and giving him instructions.'

'And…remind me what he said about You-Know-Who?' said Ron tentatively.

'I've told you,' Harry repeated dully. 'He said he's getting stronger.'

There was a pause. Then Ron said in a falsely confident voice, 'But he was out of his mind, like you said, so half of it was probably just raving…'

'He was sanest when he was trying to talk about Voldemort,' said Harry, and Ron winced at the sound of the name. 'He was having real trouble stringing two words together, but that was when he seemed to know where he was, and know what he wanted to do. He just kept saying he had to see Dumbledore.'

Harry turned away from the window and stared up into the rafters.

'If Snape hadn't held me up,' Harry said bitterly, 'we might've got there in time. 'The headmaster is busy. Potter…what's this rubbish, Potter?' Why couldn't he have just got out of the way?'

'Maybe he didn't want you to get there!' said Ron quickly. 'Maybe - hang on - how fast d'you reckon he could've gotten down to the forest? D'you reckon he could've beaten you and Dumbledore there?'

'Not unless he can turn himself into a bat or something,' said Harry.

'Wouldn't put it past him,' Arabella muttered.

'We need to see Professor Moody,' said Hermione. 'We need to find out whether he found Mr. Crouch.'

'If he had the Marauder's Map on him, it would've been easy,' said Harry.

'Unless Crouch was already outside the grounds,' said Ron, 'because it only shows up to the boundaries, doesn't -'

'Shh!' said Arabella suddenly.

Someone was climbing the steps up to the Owlery. Arabella could hear two voices arguing, coming closer and closer.

- that's blackmail, that is, we could get into a lot of trouble for that-'

'- we've tried being polite; it's time to play dirty, like him. He wouldn't like the Ministry of

Magic knowing what he did -'

'I'm telling you, if you put that in writing, it's blackmail!'

'Yeah, and you won't be complaining if we get a nice fat payoff, will you?'

The Owlery door banged open. Fred and George came over the threshold, then froze at the sight of Arabella, Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

'What're you doing here?' Ron and Fred said at the same time.

'Sending a letter,' said Harry and George in unison.

'What, at this time?' said Arabella and Fred.

Fred grinned.

'Fine - we won't ask you what you're doing, if you don't ask us,' he said. He was holding a sealed envelope in his hands. Arabella glanced at it, but Fred, whether accidentally or on purpose, shifted his hand so that the name on it was covered.

'Well, don't let us hold you up,' Fred said, making a mock bow and pointing at the door.

Ron didn't move. 'Who're you blackmailing?' he said.

The grin vanished from Fred's face. Harry saw George half glance at Fred, before smiling at Ron.

'Don't be stupid, I was only joking,' he said easily.

'Didn't sound like that,' said Ron.

Fred and George looked at each other. Then Fred said abruptly, 'I've told you before, Ron, keep your nose out if you like it the shape it is. Can't see why you would, but -'

'It's my business if you're blackmailing someone,' said Ron. 'George's right, you could end up in serious trouble for that.'

'Told you, I was joking,' said George. He walked over to Fred, pulled the letter out of his hands, and began attaching it to the leg of the nearest barn owl. 'You're starting to sound a bit like our dear older brother, you are, Ron. Carry on like this and you'll be made a prefect.'

'No, I won't!' said Ron hotly.

George carried the barn owl over to the window and it took off. George turned around and grinned at Ron.

'Well, stop telling people what to do then. See you later.'

He and Fred left the Owlery. Arabella, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at one another.

'You don't think they know something about all this, do you?' Hermione whispered. 'About Crouch and everything?'

'No,' said Harry. 'If it was something that serious, they'd tell someone. They'd tell Dumbledore.'

Ron, however, was looking uncomfortable.

'What's the matter?' Arabella asked him.

'Well…' said Ron slowly, 'I dunno if they would. They're…they're obsessed with making money lately, I noticed it when I was hanging around with them - when - you know -'

'We weren't talking.' Harry finished the sentence for him. 'Yeah, but blackmail…'

'It's this joke shop idea they've got,' said Ron. 'I thought they were only saying it to annoy Mum, but they really mean it, they want to start one. They've only got a year left at Hogwarts, they keep going on about how it's time to think about their future, and Dad can't help them, and they need gold to get started.'

Hermione was looking uncomfortable now.

'Yes, but…they wouldn't do anything against the law to get gold.'

'Wouldn't they?' said Ron, looking skeptical. 'I dunno…they don't exactly mind breaking rules, do they?'

'Yes, but this is the law' said Hermione, looking scared. 'This isn't some silly school rule…They'll get a lot more than detention for blackmail! Ron… maybe you'd better tell Percy…'

'Are you mad?' said Ron. 'Tell Percy? He'd probably do a Crouch and turn them in.'

He stared at the window through which Fred and George's owl had departed, then said, 'Come on, let's get some breakfast.'

'D'you think it's too early to go and see Professor Moody?' Hermione said as they went down the spiral staircase.

'Yeah,' said Arabella. 'Went to his one time at four o'clock in the morning. Nearly lost my arm that day. Let's give it till break.'

'What were you doing at his house at four o'clock?' asked Harry .

'It was April fool's day. I thought I would be able to catch him, or something. I was young and stupid,' said Arabella, shaking her head at the memory.

History of Magic had rarely gone so slowly. Arabella kept checking Ron's watch, which was moving so slowly she could have sworn it had stopped working. All four of them were so tired they could happily have put their heads down on the desks and slept; even Hermione wasn't taking her usual notes, but was sitting with her head on her hand, gazing at Professor Binns with her eyes out of focus.

When the bell finally rang, they hurried out into the corridors toward the Dark Arts classroom and found Professor Moody leaving it. He looked as tired as they felt. The eyelid of his normal eye was drooping, giving his face an even more lopsided appearance than usual.

'Professor Moody?' Harry called as they made their way toward him through the crowd.

'Hello, Potter,' growled Moody. His magical eye followed a couple of passing first years, who sped up, looking nervous; it rolled into the back of Moody's head and watched them around the corner before he spoke again.

'Come in here.'

He stood back to let them into his empty classroom, limped in after them, and closed the door.

'Did you find him?' Harry asked without preamble. 'Mr. Crouch?'

'No,' said Moody. He moved over to his desk, sat down, stretched out his wooden leg with a slight groan, and pulled out his hip flask.

'Did you use the map?' Harry said.

'Of course,' said Moody, taking a swig from his flask. 'Took a leaf out of your book, Potter. Summoned it from my office into the forest. He wasn't anywhere on there.'

'So he did Disapparate?' said Ron.

'You can't Disapparate on the grounds, Ron!' said Hermione. 'There are other ways he could have disappeared, aren't there, Professor?'

Moody's magical eye quivered as it rested on Hermione. 'You're another one who might think about a career as an Auror,' he told her. 'Mind works the right way Granger.'

Hermione flushed pink with pleasure.

'Well, he wasn't invisible,' said Arabella. 'The map shows invisible people. He must've left the grounds, then.'

'But under his own steam?' said Hermione eagerly, 'or because someone made him?'

'Yeah, someone could've - could've pulled him onto a broom and flown off with him, couldn't they?' said Ron quickly, looking hopefully at Moody as if he too wanted to be told he had the makings of an Auror.

'We can't rule out kidnap,' growled Moody.

'So,' said Ron, 'd'you reckon he's somewhere in Hogsmeade?'

'Could be anywhere,' said Moody, shaking his head. 'Only thing we know for sure is that he's not here.'

He yawned widely, so that his scars stretched, and his lopsided mouth revealed a number of missing teeth. Then he said, 'Now, Dumbledore's told me you four fancy yourselves as investigators, but there's nothing you can do for Crouch. The Ministry'll be looking for him now, Dumbledore's notified them. Potter, you just keep your mind on the third task.'

'What?' said Harry. 'Oh yeah…'

'Should be right up your street, this one,' said Moody, looking up at Harry and scratching his scarred and stubbly chin. 'From what Dumbledore's said, you've managed to get through stuff like this plenty of times. Broke your way through a series of obstacles guarding the Sorcerer's Stone in your first year, didn't you?'

'We helped,' Ron said quickly. 'Me, Hermione and Arabella helped.'

Moody grinned.

'Well, help him practice for this one, and I'll be very surprised if he doesn't win,' said Moody. 'In the meantime…constant vigilance, Potter. Constant vigilance.'

He took another long draw from his hip flask, and his magical eye swiveled onto the window.

'You three,' counseled Moody, his normal eye on Arabella, Ron and Hermione, 'you stick close to Potter, all right? I'm keeping an eye on things, but all the same… you can never have too many eyes out.'

Sirius and Remus sent their owl back the very next morning. It fluttered down beside Harry at the same moment that a tawny owl landed in front of Hermione, clutching a copy of the Daily Prophet in its beak. She took the newspaper, scanned the first few pages, said, 'Ha! She hasn't got wind of Crouch!' then joined Arabella, Ron, and Harry in reading what Sirius and Remus had to say on the mysterious events of the night before last.

_Harry - what do you think you are playing at, walking off into the forest with Viktor Krum? I want you to swear, by return owl, that you are not going to go walking with anyone else at night. There is somebody highly dangerous at Hogwarts. It is clear to me that they wanted to stop Crouch from seeing Dumbledore and you were probably feet away from them in the dark. You could have been killed. _

_Your name didn't get into the Goblet of Fire by accident. If someone's trying to attack you, they're on their last chance. Stay close to Arabella, Ron and Hermione, do not leave Gryffindor Tower after hours, and arm yourself for the third task. Practice Stunning and Disarming. A few hexes wouldn't go amiss either. There's nothing you can do about Crouch. Keep your head down and look after yourself. I'm waiting for your letter giving me your word you won't stray out-of-bounds again. _

_P&M_

'Who're they to lecture me about being out-of-bounds?' said Harry in mild indignation as he folded up the letter and put it inside his robes. 'After all the stuff they did at school!'

'They're worried about you!' said Arabella sharply. 'Just like Moody, Hagrid and us! So listen to them!'

'No one's tried to attack me all year,' said Harry. 'No one's done anything to me at all-'

'Except put your name in the Goblet of Fire,' said Arabella. 'And they did it for a reason, Harry. Snuffles and Moony are right. Maybe they're waiting their time, building up momentum. This might be the task they're going to get you.'

'Look,' said Harry impatiently, 'let's say they're right, and someone Stunned Krum to kidnap Crouch. Well, they would've been in the trees near us, wouldn't they? But they waited till I was out of the way until they acted, didn't they? So it doesn't look like I'm their target, does it?'

'They couldn't have made it look like an accident if they murdered you in the forest!' said Arabella. 'But if you die during a task –'

'They didn't care about attacking Krum, did they?' said Harry. 'Why didn't they just polish me off at the same time? They could've made it look like Krum and I had a duel or something.'

'I don't understand it either, Harry,' said Arabella desperately. 'I just know that there are lot of odd things that are happening and you've got to get training for the third task, straight away. And you've got to write back to Snuffle and Moony, promising them that you're not going to go sneaking off alone again.'

The Hogwarts grounds never looked more inviting than when they had to stay indoors. For the next few days they spent all of their free time either in the library looking up hexes, or else in empty classrooms, which they sneaked into to practice. Harry was concentrating on the Stunning Spell, which he had never used before. The trouble was that practicing it involved certain sacrifices on Arabella's, Ron's and Hermione's part.

'Can't we kidnap Mrs. Norris?' Ron suggested on Monday lunchtime as he lay flat on his back in the middle of their Charms classroom, having just been Stunned and reawoken by Harry for the fifth time in a row. 'Let's Stun her for a bit. Or you could use Dobby, Harry, I bet he'd do anything to help you. I'm not complaining or anything' - he got gingerly to his feet, rubbing his backside - 'but I'm aching all over…'

'Well, you keep missing the cushions, don't you!' said Hermione impatiently, rearranging the pile of cushions they had used for the Banishing Spell, which Flitwick had left in a cabinet. 'Just try and fall backward!'

'Once you're Stunned, you can't aim too well, Hermione!' said Ron angrily. 'Why don't you take a turn?'

'Well, I think Harry's got it now, anyway,' said Hermione hastily. 'And we don't have to worry about Disarming, because he's been able to do that for ages…I think we ought to start on some of these hexes this evening.'

Arabella looked down at the list they had made in the library.

'What about this one?' said Arabella. 'The Impediment Curse. Should slow down anything that's trying to attack you.'

The bell rang. They hastily shoved the cushions back into Flitwick's cupboard and slipped out of the classroom.

'See you at dinner!' said Hermione, and she set off for Arithmancy, while Arabella, Harry and Ron headed toward Divination.

'It's going to be boiling in Trelawney's room, she never puts out that fire,' said Ron as they started up the staircase toward the silver ladder and the trapdoor.

He was quite right. The dimly lit room was swelteringly hot. The fumes from the perfumed fire were heavier than ever.

'My dears,' said Professor Trelawney, sitting down in her winged armchair in front of the class and peering around at them all with her strangely enlarged eyes, 'we have almost finished our work on planetary divination. Today, however, will be an excellent opportunity to examine the effects of Mars, for he is placed most interestingly at the present time. If you will all look this way, I will dim the lights…'

She waved her wand and the lamps went out. The fire was the only source of light now. Professor Trelawney bent down and lifted, from under her chair, a miniature model of the solar system, contained within a glass dome. It was a beautiful thing; each of the moons glimmered in place around the nine planets and the fiery sun, all of them hanging in thin air beneath the glass.

Arabella watched lazily as Professor Trelawney began to point out the fascinating angle Mars was making to Neptune. The heavily fumes washed over her as her eyelids began to droop, somehow managed to stay awake. It would have been an uncomfortable angle if she slept on the chair.

As Professor Trelawney kept going on about how Mars and Neptune were connected, Arabella's eyes wondered over the classroom. Lavender and Parvati were listening intently to Professor Trelawney while Seamus and Dean were playing a game of tic-tack-toe. Ron looked bored and kept picking his fingernails as his head was on the fist of his left arm on top of the table. Harry was asleep beside her, looking quite peaceful. She then looked back at Professor Trelawney, trying to actually listen to her, but finding it quite difficult.

Then Harry started to twitch. It was first a little jerk, then he ended up on the floor, shaking and rolling madly and clutching his scar. His face was turning red and he started to sweat a bit.

'Harry! Harry!' said Ron, as he and Arabella kneeled beside him. They both tried to hold him down, to stop the shaking. Everybody was standing over them, and Harry opened his eyes, which were watering.

'You all right?' asked Ron, looking terrified.

'Of course he isn't!' said Professor Trelawney, looking thoroughly excited. Her great eyes loomed over Harry, gazing at him. 'What was it Potter? A premonition? An apparition? What did you see?'

'Nothing,' said Harry, as he sat up.

'You were clutching your scar!' said Professor Trelawney. 'You were rolling on the floor, clutching your scar! Come now Potter, I have experience in these matters!'

'I think he needs to go to the hospital,' said Arabella, cutting in. 'Probably just a bad headache, but can never be too sure.'

'My dear, Potter was undoubtedly stimulated by the extraordinary clairvoyant vibrations of my room!' said Professor Trelawney. 'If you leave now, we may lose the opportunity to see further than Potter has ever -'

'He needs to see Madam Pomfrey,' said Arabella firmly, as she and Ron helped Harry up. The class backed away. They all looked scared. 'We'll see you later,' said Arabella to Ron as she picked up their bags and headed for the trapdoor, ignoring Professor Trelawney, who was looking frustrated.

'We have to go see Dumbledore,' said Harry as they reached the bottom of the stepladder.

'I know,' said Arabella as they headed towards Dumbledore's office. 'Snuffles and Moony told me to take you, and that's what I'm doing. It was obviously some sort of dream like the one you have over summer.'

'I saw Wormtail,' Harry blurted out. 'Voldemort said that he was lucky that he didn't ruin everything because someone was dead, but he said that there was still me and… you, if you disagreed.'

'Did he say who was killed? Or what?' asked Arabella.

'No,' said Harry, shaking his head. 'Voldemort then tortured Wormtail.'

'And that's when you woke up,' said Arabella.

Voldemort probably did know her mother; Arabella gathered that when they met up with Sirius and Remus. It just bugged her that she didn't know why, or how that would have happened, or who this Arry was. She somehow knew that these two things were connected somehow, and that the name sounded a bit likes hers. This was bugging her, but she couldn't ask Sirius and Remus again, they'd probably find a way to change the subject.

Arabella and Harry walked to the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office.

'Do you know the password?' asked Arabella.

'Sherbet lemon?' said Harry uncertainly.

The gargoyle did not move.

'Chocolate Frog,' said Arabella.

'Pear Drop.'

'Fizzing Whizbee.'

'Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans… oh no he doesn't like them, does he? Oh just open, can't you?' said Harry angrily. 'I really need to see him, its urgent!'

The gargoyle remained immovable.

Harry kicked it, achieving nothing but probably a broken toe.

'Sugar Quill! Cockroach Cluster!'

The gargoyle sprang to life and jumped aside. They blinked.

'Cockroach Cluster?' said Arabella, amazed. 'Really?'

They hurried through the gap in the walls and stepped onto the foot of a spiral stone staircase, which moved slowly upward as the doors closed behind them, taking them up to a polished oak door with a brass door knocker.

They could hear voice from inside the office. They stepped off the moving staircase, and listened, not wanted to barge in.

'Dumbledore, I'm afraid I don't see the connection, don't see it at all!' It was the voice of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. 'Ludo says Berthas perfectly capable of getting herself lost. I agree we would have expected to have found her by now, but all the same, we've no evidence of foul play, Dumbledore, none at all. As for her disappearance being linked with Barty Crouch's!'

'And what do you thinks happened to Barty Crouch, Minister?' said Moody's growling voice.

'I see two possibilities, Alastor,' said Fudge. 'Either Crouch has finally cracked - more than likely, I'm sure you'll agree, given his personal history - lost his mind, and gone wandering off somewhere -'

'He wandered extremely quickly, if that is the case, Cornelius,' said Dumbledore calmly.

'Or else - well…' Fudge sounded embarrassed. 'Well, I'll reserve judgment until after I've seen the place where he was found, but you say it was just past the Beauxbatons carriage? Dumbledore, you know what that woman is?'

'I consider her to be a very able headmistress - and an excellent dancer,' said Dumbledore quietly.

'Dumbledore, come!' said Fudge angrily. 'Don't you think you might be prejudiced in her favor because of Hagrid? They don't all turn out harmless - if, indeed, you can call Hagrid harmless, with that monster fixation he's got -'

'I no more suspect Madame Maxime than Hagrid,' said Dumbledore, just as calmly. 'I think it possible that it is you who are prejudiced, Cornelius.'

'Can we wrap up this discussion?' growled Moody.

'Yes, yes, let's go down to the grounds, then,' said Fudge impatiently.

'No, it's not that,' said Moody, 'it's just that Potter and Black want a word with you, Dumbledore. They've just outside the door.'

**Thank you for reading!**


	25. The Pensive

**disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, just Arabella. Hope you like it!**

The Pensive

The door of the office opened.

'Hello, Potter, Black,' said Moody, nodding his head towards them. 'Come in, then.'

Arabella and Harry walked inside. Arabella hadn't been inside Dumbledore's office before. It was a very nice circular room, lined with pictures of previous headmaster and headmistresses of Hogwarts, all of whom were fast asleep, their chests rising and falling gently. She could have sworn she saw the name 'Black' amongst one of them. Must have been a horrible professor.

Cornelius Fudge was standing beside Dumbledore's desk, wearing his usual pinstriped cloak and holding his lime-green bowler hat.

'Harry!' said Fudge happily, moving forward, ignoring Arabella. 'How are you?'

'Fine,' Harry lied.

'We were just talking about the night when Mr. Crouch turned up on the grounds,' said Fudge. 'It was you who found him, was it not?'

'Yes' said Harry. 'I didn't see Madam Maxime anywhere, though, and she'd have a job hiding, wouldn't she?'

Dumbledore smiled at Harry behind Fudge's back, his eyes twinkling.

'Yes, well,' said Fudge, looking embarrassed, 'we're about to go for a short walk on the grounds, Harry, if you'll excuse us…perhaps if you just go back to your class -'

'I wanted to talk to you, Professor,' Harry said quickly, looking at Dumbledore, who gave him a swift, searching look.

'If you two would wait for me here,' he said. 'Our examination of the grounds will not take long.'

They moved out in silence past them and closed the door. After a minute or so, they heard the clunks of Mad-Eye's wooden leg growing fainter in the corridor below.

'Hello, Fawkes,' said Harry.

Fawkes, Professor Dumbledore's phoenix, was standing on his golden perch beside the door. Arabella made a move to pet him, but decided against it and sat on the chair beside Harry in front of Dumbledore's desk.

She gazed all around the office, silently as Harry was doing the same. Behind the desk was the Sorting Hat standing on a shelf. A glass case next to it held a magnificent silver sword with large red rubies set into the hilt, which Arabella recognized as the one Harry pulled out of the Sorting Hat in their second year. She was remembering her second year when she caught sight of a silvery light, dancing on the glass case. She looked around for the source of light and saw a silver-white shining brightly from within a black cabinet behind them, whose door had not been closed properly.

'Do you see that?' whispered Harry, looking at it.

'Yeah,' said Arabella.

'What do you reckon it is?' asked Harry, getting up.

Arabella followed him. The silvery light was beckoning her towards it. She had some idea of what it could be, but not so sure yet. It's been a while since she's seen one of them.

Harry pulled the cabinet door open. A shallow stone basin lay there with the silvery light coming from inside it. Arabella couldn't tell whether or not the substance inside it was a liquid or gas. She wanted to reach her hand out and touch it, to confirm what she was thinking and just to touch it in general.

Harry pulled his wand out from inside his robes before reaching for Arabella's hand with his other. Casting a nervous look around the office, looked back at the contents of the basin, Harry probed them.

The surface of the silvery stuff inside the basin began to swirl very fast. Arabella and Harry bent closer, their heads right inside the cabinet. The silvery substance had become transparent; it looked like glass. They looked down into it expecting to see the stone bottom of the basin - and saw instead an enormous room below the surface of the mysterious substance, a room into which they seemed to be looking through a circular window in the ceiling.

The room was dimly lit. There were rows and rows of wizards and witches seated around every wall on what seemed to be benches rising in levels. There was an empty chair standing in the centre of the room, it seemed to be giving off a gloomy sort of feeling, like no good could come out of it. Chains surrounded the arms of it.

Arabella and Harry couldn't make out what was going on in the corners of the room. They leaned in closer, trying to see…

The tip of Arabella's nose touched the surface of the substance. Dumbledore's office gave a massive lurch. The both of them were thrown forward and headfirst inside the basin –

But they did not hit the stone bottom. They were falling through something icy and black, like being sucked into a dark whirlpool –

And suddenly, Arabella found herself sitting on a bench at the end of the room inside the basin, beside Harry.

'Where are we?' said Harry.

'I think… we're going to witness a trial,' said Arabella, looking around, especially at the chair.

None of the witches and wizards was looking at them. They didn't seem to notice that two fourth years suddenly appeared from the sky. Arabella was looking around when Harry let out a cry of surprise that bounced around the room. Sitting right beside Harry was Albus Dumbledore.

'Professor!' Harry said in a kind of strangled whisper. 'I'm sorry - We didn't mean to - I was just looking at that basin in your cabinet - I - where are we?'

'He can't hear you, Harry,' said Arabella. 'We're in a memory.'

Harry raised his right hand and then waved it energetically in front of Dumbledore's face. Dumbledore didn't react in any way.

'Stop that,' said Arabella. 'He can't hear us _and_ he can't see us.'

Arabella looked around again. The room seemed more of a dungeon than a room. There was nothing covering the walls, just rows of benches, all positioned so that they would have a clear view of the chair with chains on them. She just wondered who she and Harry would be seeing here today.

Then they heard footsteps. The door in the corner of the dungeon opened and one person entered, carried by two Dementors.

Arabella's inside went cold. The Dementors were gliding slowly toward the chair in the centre of the room, each grasping one of the man's arms with their dead looking arms. She knew that the Dementors wouldn't be able to affect her in a memory, but she remember the incident on the train last year all too well. The Dementors placed the man in the chained chair and glided back out of the room. The door swung shut behind them.

Arabella and Harry looked down at the man now sitting in the chair and saw that it was Karkaroff.

The chains on the arms of the chair glowed suddenly gold and snaked their way up Karkaroff's arms, binding him there. He was shaking.

'Igor Karkaroff,' said a curt voice to their left. They looked around and saw Crouch standing up in the middle of the bench beside them. 'You have been brought from Azkaban to present evidence to the Ministry of Magic. You have given us to understand that you have important information for us.'

Karkaroff straightened himself as best he could, tightly bound to the chair.

'I have, sir,' he said, and although his voice was very scared, they could still hear the familiar smug note in it. 'I wish to be of use to the Ministry. I wish to help. I - I know that the Ministry is trying to - to round up the last of the Dark Lords supporters. I am eager to assist in any way I can…'

There was a murmur around the benches. Some of the wizards and witches were surveying Karkaroff with interest, others with pronounced mistrust. Then Arabella heard, quite distinctly, from Dumbledore's other side, a familiar, growling voice saying, 'Filth.'

Arabella leaned over Harry and saw past Dumbledore. Mad-Eye was sitting there, except he looked a lot different. He didn't have his magical eye, but two normal ones. He was looking down at Karkaroff with such intense dislike in his eyes.

'Crouch is going to let him out,' Mad-Eye breathed quietly to Dumbledore. 'He's done a deal with him. Took me six months to track him down, and Crouch is going to let him go if he's got enough new names. Let's hear his information, I say, and throw him straight back to the dementors.'

Dumbledore made a small noise of dissent through his long, crooked nose. 'Ah, I was forgetting…you don't like the dementors, do you, Albus?' said Mad-Eye with a sardonic smile.

'No,' said Dumbledore calmly, 'I'm afraid I don't. I have long felt the Ministry is wrong to ally itself with such creatures.'

'But for filth like this…' Mad-Eye said softly.

'You say you have names for us, Karkaroff,' said Crouch. 'Let us hear them, please.'

'You must understand,' said Karkaroff hurriedly, 'that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named operated always in the greatest secrecy…He preferred that we - I mean to say, his supporters - and I regret now, very deeply, that I ever counted myself among them -'

'Get on with it,' sneered Mad-Eye.

'-we never knew the names of every one of our fellows- He alone knew exactly who we all were-'

'Which was a wise move, wasn't it, as it prevented someone like you, Karkaroff, from turning all of them in,' muttered Moody.

'Yet you say you have some names for us?' said Mr. Crouch.

'I - I do,' said Karkaroff breathlessly. 'And these were important supporters, mark you. People I saw with my own eyes doing his bidding. I give this information as a sign that I fully and totally renounce him, and am filled with a remorse so deep I can barely -'

'These names are?' said Mr. Crouch sharply.

Karkaroff drew a deep breath.

'There was Antonin Dolohov,' he said. 'I - I saw him torture countless Muggles and - and nonsupporters of the Dark Lord.'

'And helped him do it,' murmured Mad-Eye.

'We have already apprehended Dolohov,' said Crouch. 'He was caught shortly after yourself.'

'Indeed?' said Karkaroff, his eyes widening. 'I - I am delighted to hear it!'

But he didn't look it. Arabella could tell that this news had come as a real blow to him. One of his names was worthless, they all probably were.

'Any others?' said Crouch coldly.

'Why, yes…there was Rosier,' said Karkaroff hurriedly. 'Evan Rosier.'

'Rosier is dead,' said Crouch. 'He was caught shortly after you were too. He preferred to fight rather than come quietly and was killed in the struggle.'

'Took a bit of me with him, though,' whispered Mad-Eye. Arabella looked around at him once more, and saw him indicating the large chunk out of his nose to Dumbledore.

'No - no more than Rosier deserved!' said Karkaroff, a real note of panic in his voice now.

Arabella could see that he was really starting to panic now that none of his information would be of any use to the Ministry.

'Anymore?' said Crouch.

'Yes!' said Karkaroff. 'There was Travers - he helped murder the McKinnons! Mulciber - he specialized in the Imperius Curse, forced countless people to do horrific things! Rookwood, who was a spy, and passed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named useful information from inside the Ministry itself!'

Arabella could tell that, this time, Karkaroff had struck gold. The watching crowd was all murmuring together.

'Rookwood?' said Mr. Crouch, nodding to a witch sitting in front of him, who began scribbling upon her piece of parchment. 'Augustus Rookwood of the Department of Mysteries?'

'The very same,' said Karkaroff eagerly. 'I believe he used a network of wellplaced wizards, both inside the Ministry and out, to collect information -'

But Travers and Mulciber we have,' said Mr. Crouch. 'Very well, Karkaroff, if that is all, you will be returned to Azkaban while we decide -'

'Not yet!' cried Karkaroff, looking quite desperate. 'Wait, I have more!'

Arabella could see him sweating in the torchlight, his white skin contrasting strongly with the black of his hair and beard.

'Snape!' he shouted. 'Severus Snape!'

'Snape has been cleared by this council,' said Crouch disdainfully. 'He has been vouched for by Albus Dumbledore.'

'No!' shouted Karkaroff, straining at the chains that bound him to the chair. 'I assure you! Severus Snape is a Death Eater!'

Dumbledore had gotten to his feet.

'I have given evidence already on this matter,' he said calmly. 'Severus Snape was indeed a Death Eater. However, he rejoined our side before Lord Voldemort's downfall and turned spy for us, at great personal risk. He is now no more a Death Eater than I am.'

'Kassandra!' he shouted. 'Kassandra Anastas!'

'What?!' yelled Arabella, darting her eyes back and forth between Karkaroff and Crouch. She could believe what she was hearing. Her mother, a Death Eater? What the hell?! Harry looked shocked too. She gripped his hand tightly as he did the same.

'Anastas has been cleared by this council also, Karkaroff,' said Crouch, irritably. 'She had been vouched by both Albus Dumbledore and Alastor Moody.'

'No!' he shouted again. 'She was definitely a Death Eater! She was by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's side the whole time! She's a Death Eater!'

Mad-Eye got up from his seat, clearly annoyed by what Karkaroff was saying.

'Kassandra Anastas,' he growled, 'highly decorated Auror and one of the best the Ministry has ever seen, was not a Death Eater. She, like Snape, was a spy, but a spy from the beginning. She had to stop the mission when word got out what happened and her circumstances. Me and Albus have given evidences on this matter. She is and never was a Death Eater.'

He sat back down and was wearing a look of deep loathing on his face. Arabella let out a sigh of relief, as her grip on Harry's hand loosened a bit. _She was just a spy, nothing more _she thought.

'Very well, Karkaroff,' Crouch said coldly, 'you have been of assistance. I shall review your case. You will return to Azkaban in the meantime…'

And then, the scene shifted. They were still in the dungeon, but in a different seat, but now to the left side of Crouch. Harry nudged her and pointed to a witch halfway up the rows of benches opposite. It was a younger Rita Skeeter, who looked more or less the same. Dumbledore was beside Harry again, but wearing different clothes. Crouch looked more tired and fiercer. Different memory, different trial.

The door in the corner opened and Ludo Bagman walked into the room. This was the Ludo Bagman that was clearly at the height of his Quidditch career. He sat down nervously in the chained chair, but it did not bind him there.

'Ludo Bagman, you have been brought here in front of the Council of Magical Law to answer charges relating to the activities of the Death Eaters,' said Crouch. 'We have heard the evidence against you, and are about to reach our verdict. Do you have anything to add to your testimony before we pronounce judgment?'

'Only,' said Bagman, smiling awkwardly, 'well - I know I've been a bit of an idiot -'

'You never spoke a truer word, boy,' someone muttered dryly to Dumbledore behind them. It was Mad-Eye again. 'If I didn't know he'd always been dim, I'd have said some of those Bludgers had permanently affected his brain… Bloody idiot almost killed Anastas, had to go into hiding because of his stupidity…'

'Ludovic Bagman, you were caught passing information to Lord Voldemort's supporters,' said Crouch. 'For this, I suggest a term of imprisonment in Azkaban lasting no less than -'

But there was an angry outcry from the surrounding benches. Several of the witches and wizards around the walls stood up, shaking their heads, and even their fists, at Crouch.

'But I've told you, I had no idea!' Bagman called earnestly over the crowd's babble, his round blue eyes widening. 'None at all! Old Rookwood was a friend of my dad's…never crossed my mind he was in with You-Know-Who! I thought I was collecting information for our side! And Rookwood kept talking about getting me a job in the Ministry later on…once my Quidditch days are over, you know…I mean, I can't keep getting hit by Bludgers for the rest of my life, can I?'

There were titters from the crowd.

'It will be put to the vote,' said Crouch coldly. He turned to the right-hand side of the dungeon. 'The jury will please raise their hands…those in favor of imprisonment…'

Arabella looked toward the right-hand side of the dungeon. Not one person raised their hand. Many of the witches and wizards around the walls began to clap. One of the witches on the jury stood up.

'Yes?' barked Crouch.

'We'd just like to congratulate Mr. Bagman on his splendid performance for England in the Quidditch match against Turkey last Saturday,' the witch said breathlessly.

Crouch looked furious. The dungeon was ringing with applause now. Bagman got to his feet and bowed, beaming.

'Despicable,' Crouch spat at Dumbledore, sitting down as Bagman walked out of the dungeon. 'Rookwood get him a job indeed…The day Ludo Bagman joins us will be a sad day indeed for the Ministry…'

And the dungeon dissolved again. They were still sitting beside Dumbledore and Crouch. There was total silence, broken only by the dry sobs of a frail, wispy-looking witch in the seat next to Crouch. Across the room, Arabella could see Andromeda Tonks, her face emotionless as her eyes were fixed on the chair in the middle of the room.

'Bring them in,' Crouch said, and his voice echoed through the silent dungeon.

The door opened again. Six dementors entered this this, bringing in a group of four people. They placed the group of four with chained arms that stood on the dungeon floor. Arabella knew them all at once.

Bellatrix Lestrange was sitting in the chained chair as though it was some sort of throne. She was proud to sit there. Her face didn't show any emotion, but her posture and her demeanour. Rodolphus was looking blankly up at Crouch as Rabastan was more nervous and his eyes were darting around the room. Barty Crouch Jr. was looking petrified. _Good _thought Arabella venomously _I hope you suffer. _

'Isn't that -?' whispered Harry to her.

'Yup,' said Arabella emotionlessly, staring at Bellatrix.

'So this is -?'

'After they killed my mother, yes,' said Arabella.

Harry opened his mouth to say something else, but decided against it. He just held onto Arabella's hand.

Crouch stood up. He looked down upon the four in front of him, and there was pure hatred in his face.

'You have been brought here before the Council of Magical Law,' he said clearly, 'so that we may pass judgment on you, for a crime so heinous -'

'Father,' said Crouch Jr. 'Father…please…'

'- that we have rarely heard the like of it within this court,' said Crouch, speaking more loudly, drowning out his son's voice.

'We have heard the evidence against you. The four of you stand accused of capturing Auror –Frank Longbottom, subjecting him and his wife, Alice Longbottom, to the Cruciatus Curse when they would not give you information on the whereabouts of your exiled master, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named –'

'Father, I didn't!' shrieked Crouch Jr. in chains below. 'I didn't, I swear it. Father, don't send me back to the dementors -'

'You are further accused,' bellowed Crouch, 'of using the Cruciatus Curse on Kassandra Anastas when she would not give you information either. You then tortured her daughter, Arabella Black, using the Cruciatus Curse on her, and a knife to also further torture her, then killing her mother in front of her eyes. You planned to restore He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to power, and to resume the lives of violence you presumably led while he was strong. I now ask the jury –'

'Mother!' screamed Crouch Jr. below, and the wispy little witch beside Crouch began to sob, rocking backward and forward. 'Mother, stop him. Mother, I didn't do it, it wasn't me!'

'I now ask the jury,' shouted Crouch, 'to raise their hands if they believe, as I do, that these crimes deserve a life sentence in Azkaban!'

In unison, the witches and wizards along the right-hand side of the dungeon raised their hands. The crowd around the walls began to clap as it had for Bagman, their faces full of savage triumph. Crouch Jr. began to scream. 'No! Mother, no! I didn't do it, I didn't do it, I didn't know! Don't send me there, don't let him!'

The dementors were back in the room. Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rabastan got up from their seat quietly.

Bellatrix looked up at Crouch and called, 'The Dark Lord will rise again, Crouch! Throw us in Azkaban; we will wait! He will rise again and will come for us, he will reward us beyond any of his other supporters! We alone were faithful! We alone tried to find him!'

But Crouch Jr. was trying to fight off the dementors, even though they were draining him of his energy. The crowd was jeering, some of them on their feet, as the woman swept out of the dungeon, and Crouch Jr. continued to struggle.

'I'm your son!' he screamed up at Crouch. 'I'm your son!'

'You are no son of mine!' bellowed Crouch, his eyes bulging suddenly. 'I have no son!'

The wispy witch beside him gave a great gasp and slumped in her seat. She had fainted. Crouch appeared not to have noticed.

'Take them away!' Crouch roared at the dementors, spit flying from his mouth. 'Take them away, and may they rot there!'

'Father! Father, I wasn't involved! No! No! Father, please!'

'I think it is time to return to my office,' said a quiet voice beside Arabella and Harry.

Arabella didn't look to hear the new voice; she was watching Crouch Jr. being dragged away by the dementors. _You deserve it and more, the whole lot of you_ she thought.

'Come now, Arabella,' said the voice that sounded like Dumbledore. Something happened because he felt as though she was rising into the air. The dungeon dissolved around her. Suddenly, she landed on her feet in Dumbledore's office, still holding onto Harry's hand. The basin was shimmering in the cabinet in front of them, and Dumbledore was standing beside them.

'Professor,' Harry gasped, 'I know we shouldn't've - We didn't mean - the cabinet door was sort of open and -'

'I quite understand,' said Dumbledore. He lifted the basin, carried it over to his desk, placed it upon the polished top, and sat down in the chair behind it. He motioned for Harry and Arabella to sit down opposite him.

They did so, staring at the stone basin. The contents had returned to their original, silvery-white state, swirling and rippling beneath his gaze.

'What is it?' Harry asked shakily.

'This? It is called a Pensieve,' said Dumbledore. 'I sometimes find, and I am sure you know the feeling, that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind.'

'Er,' said Harry.

'At these times,' said Dumbledore, indicating the stone basin, 'I use the Pensieve. One simply siphons the excess thoughts from one's mind, pours them into the basin, and examines them at one's leisure. It becomes easier to spot patterns and links, you understand, when they are in this form.'

'You mean…that stuff's your thoughts?' Harry said, staring at the swirling white substance in the basin.

'Certainly,' said Dumbledore. 'Let me show you.'

Dumbledore drew his wand out of the inside of his robes and placed the tip near his temple. When he took his wand away, something silvery was clinging onto it. Dumbledore added this fresh thought to the basin, and Arabella, stunned, saw her own face swimming around the surface of the bowl, but she was younger and had bandages all over her arms. Then her own face changed into Snape's who opened his mouth and spoke to the ceiling, his voice echoing slightly.

'It's coming back…Karkaroff's too…stronger and clearer than ever…'

'A connection I could have made without assistance,' Dumbledore sighed, 'but never mind.' He peered over the top of his half-moon looking at Arabella. 'Recognize the memory, Arabella?'

'Yeah,' said Arabella, her voice sounded husky, as though she had a lump in it. 'The day you came to the hospital and asked me for the memory of the incident. I thought you were crazy, asking for something like that.'

'Naturally,' said Dumbledore. He then peered at Harry, who was still gaping at the bowl. 'I was using the Pensieve when Mr. Fudge arrived for our meeting and put it away rather hastily. Undoubtedly I did not fasten the cabinet door properly. Naturally, it would have attracted your attention.'

'I'm sorry,' Harry mumbled.

Dumbledore shook his head. 'Curiosity is not a sin,' he said. 'But we should exercise caution with our curiosity…yes, indeed…'

Frowning slightly, he prodded the thoughts within the basin with the tip of his wand. Instantly, a figure rose out of it, a plump, scowling girl of about sixteen, who began to revolve slowly, with her feet still in the basin. She took no notice whatsoever of Harry, Dumbledore or Arabella. When she spoke, her voice echoed as Snape's had done, as though it were coming from the depths of the stone basin.

'He put a hex on me, Professor Dumbledore, and I was only teasing him, sir, I only said I'd seen him kissing Florence behind the greenhouses last Thursday…'

'But why Bertha,' said Dumbledore sadly, looking up at the now silently revolving girl, 'why did you have to follow him in the first place?'

'Bertha?' Harry whispered, looking up at her. 'Is that - was that Bertha Jorkins?'

'Yes,' said Dumbledore, prodding the thoughts in the basin again; Bertha sank back into them, and they became silvery and opaque once more. 'That was Bertha as I remember her at school. So, Harry, you said you wanted to tell me something, before you got lost in my thoughts.'

'Yes,' said Harry. 'Professor - I was in Divination just now, and - er - I fell asleep.'

He hesitated here, but Dumbledore merely said, 'Quite understandable. Continue.'

'Well, I had a dream,' said Harry. 'A dream about Lord Voldemort. He was torturing Wormtail…you know who Wormtail-'

'I do know,' said Dumbledore promptly. 'Please continue.' 'Voldemort got a letter from an owl. He said something like, Wormtail's blunder had been repaired. He said someone was dead. Then he said, Wormtail wouldn't be fed to the snake - there was a snake beside his chair. He said - he said he'd be feeding me to it, instead and Arabella, if she disagreed. Then he did the Cruciatus Curse on Wormtail - and my scar hurt,' Harry said. 'It woke me up, it hurt so badly.'

Dumbledore merely looked at him.

'Er - that's all,' said Harry.

'I see,' said Dumbledore quietly. 'I see. Now, has your scar hurt at any other time this year, excepting the time it woke you up over the summer?'

'No, I - how did you know it woke me up over the summer?' said Harry, astonished.

'You are not Sirius's only correspondent,' said Dumbledore. 'I have also been in contact with him ever since he left Hogwarts last year. It was I who suggested the place where he is right now, it is the safest place right now, Arabella,' he added when Arabella was about to open her moth and say something.

Arabella said nothing, but silently agreed that it would be the safest. That place is covered with security spells and anti-Muggle ones. He should be safe in there for now.

Dumbledore got up and began walking up and down behind his desk. Every now and then, he placed his wand tip to his temple, removed another shining silver thought, and added it to the Pensieve. The thoughts inside began to swirl so fast that Arabella couldn't make out anything clearly: It was merely a blur of color.

'Professor?' Harry said quietly, after a couple of minutes.

Dumbledore stopped pacing and looked at Harry.

'My apologies,' he said quietly. He sat back down at his desk.

'D'you - d'you know why my scar's hurting me?'

Dumbledore looked very intently at Harry for a moment, and then said, 'I have a theory, no more than that…It is my belief that your scar hurts both when Lord Voldemort is near you, and when he is feeling a particularly strong surge of hatred.'

'But…why?'

'Because you and he are connected by the curse that failed,' said Dumbledore. 'That is no ordinary scar.'

'So you think…that dream…did it really happen?'

'It is possible,' said Dumbledore. 'I would say - probable. Harry - did you see Voldemort?'

'No,' said Harry. 'Just the back of his chair. But - there wouldn't have been anything to see, would there? I mean, he hasn't got a body, has he? But…but then how could he have held the wand?' Harry said slowly.

'How indeed?' muttered Dumbledore. 'How indeed…'

They didn't speak for a while. Dumbledore was gazing across the room, and, every now and then, placing his wand tip to his temple and adding another shining silver thought to the seething mass within the Pensieve.

'Professor,' Harry said at last, 'do you think he's getting stronger?'

'Voldemort?' said Dumbledore, looking at Harry over the Pensieve. 'Once again Harry, I can only give you my suspicions.'

Dumbledore sighed again. 'The years of Voldemort's ascent to power,' he said, 'were marked with disappearances. Bertha Jorkins has vanished without a trace in the place where Voldemort was certainly known to be last. Mr. Crouch too has disappeared…within these very grounds. And there was a third disappearance, one which the Ministry, I regret to say, do not consider of any importance, for it concerns a Muggle. His name was Frank Bryce, he lived in the village where Voldemort's father grew up, and he has not been seen since last August. You see, I read the Muggle newspapers, unlike most of my Ministry friends.'

Dumbledore looked very seriously at them.

'These disappearances seem to me to be linked. The Ministry disagrees - as you may have heard, while waiting outside my office.'

They nodded. Silence fell between them again, Dumbledore extracting thoughts every now and then.

'Professor?' he said again.

'Yes, Harry?' said Dumbledore.

'Er…could I ask you about…that court thing I was in…in the Pensieve?' he said, glancing nervously at Arabella, who suddenly found the floor very interesting.

'You could,' said Dumbledore heavily. 'I attended it many times, but some trials come back to me more clearly than others…particularly now…'

'You know - you know the trial you found us in? The one about Arabella and her mother? Well…were they talking about Neville's parents?'

Dumbledore gave them both a very sharp look. 'Has Neville never told you why he has been brought up by his grandmother?' he said.

Harry shook his head while Arabella shrugged. She knew what happened to them, but Neville never told her. It was something she found out when she learned some time after the incident.

'Yes, they were talking about Neville's parents,' said Dumbledore. 'His father, Frank, was an Auror just like Arabella's mother. He and his wife were tortured for information about Voldemort's whereabouts after he lost his powers, as you heard.'

So they're dead?' said Harry quietly.

'No,' said Arabella, her voice was unrecognizable as it held so much bitter in them. 'They're insane, went out of their minds.'

'They're both in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries,' said Dumbledore, his voice also full of bitter. 'I believe Neville visits them, with his grandmother, during the holidays. They do not recognize him.'

'The Longbottoms are very popular, as well as you and your mother, Arabella,' continued Dumbledore. 'The attacks came two years after Voldemort's fall from power, just when everyone was starting to think that they were safe. Those attacks caused a wave of fury such as I have never known. The Ministry was under great pressure to catch those who had done it. Unfortunately, the Longbottoms' evidence was - given their condition - none too reliable, but yours was, Arabella. The Ministry didn't want to administer your testimony, but given the circumstance and your ability to identify them, they had to look at your memory.'

'Er,' he said, 'Mr. Bagman…'

'…has never been accused of any Dark activity since,' said Dumbledore calmly.

'But he still gave information about my mother to Death Eater,' said Arabella.

Dumbledore nodded solemnly.

'Was she really a Death Eater?' asked Arabella in a small voice.

'Not really,' said Dumbledore. 'Though the reason why she was a spy is story for another time, she was never fully initiated as a Death Eater. She was in the early stages, but just before she was about to be branded as one, Ludo Bagman accidently blurted out some information to Rockwood.'

'Which was… ?' prompted Arabella.

'That she was pregnant with Sirius Black's daughter and was really on our side the whole time,' said Dumbledore. 'As soon as we found other what Ludo Bagman had done, Kassandra and Sirius went into hiding, barely getting out of the house, except for the occasional visit to Hogsmeade to get some sweets, or meetings.'

'Why did she want to be a spy?' said Arabella. 'Does it have something to do with Arry?'

'Another story for another time,' said Dumbledore, sternly, looking quite sad. 'Kassandra wasn't a Death Eater, as well as Professor Snape,' he added as Harry was looking at the basin with Snape's face on it.

'What made you think he'd really stopped supporting Voldemort, Professor?' said Harry.

Dumbledore held Harry's gaze for a few seconds, and then said, 'That, Harry, is a matter between Professor Snape and myself.'

Arabella knew that the interview was over. Dumbledore didn't look angry, but there was a finality in his tine that told her and Harry it was time to go. They stood up and so did Dumbledore.

'I would advise you both to please not speak about t Neville's parents to anybody else. He has the right to let people know, when he is ready,' said Dumbledore as they reached the door.

'Yes, Professor,' said Harry and Arabella, turning to go.

'And-'

They looked back. Dumbledore was standing over the Pensieve, his face lit from beneath by its silvery spots of light, looking older than ever. He stared at Harry for a moment, and then said, 'Good luck with the third task.'

* * *

'Are you okay?' asked Harry as they walked away from Dumbledore's office.

'Yes,' said Arabella quickly. 'Well… no, but… I don't know… I'm going to go outside, I'll just…'

Arabella walked away as fast as she could, getting as far as she could away from Dumbledore's office and the castle. She kept walking until she was at the Black Lake.

Kassandra was a spy pretending to be a Death Eater, before Bagman blabbed and pretty much ratted on her. She didn't it for some sort of reason that everybody is trying to hide from her. It definitely has something to do with this Arry person, whoever she is, or he is. Voldemort probably wants her to get revenge on Kassandra or something like that, unless it has something to do with what he told her in their second year. Could be possible, but hopefully it doesn't happen.

Arabella kept thinking about this over and over again in her mind, trying to thinking about whether or not she missed some little information, but nothing.

She heard some footsteps from behind her and turned around. It was Harry, and he had two butterbears from the kitchen in his hands. He sat down beside her and handed her one.

'Over thinking?' he said, taking a sip.

'I do not over thing,' said Arabella. 'I barely think.'

'And yet you're doing better than me in all our classes,' Harry retorted.

'It just comes naturally to some people,' said Arabella, sounding very posh and fake-classy.

'Piss off,' said Harry, shoving her lightly with a smile before turning serious. 'I'm sorry about your mom.'

'Don't it clearly wasn't your fault. It was Bellatrix and her lap dogs,' said Arabella, looking at the Black Lake while taking a sip of butterbear.

'Yeah, I'm just –'

'I know,' said Arabella, turning to him. 'Thank you.'

Arabella leaned in on him a bit and they drank the rest of the butterbears in silence as the sun began to set, creating a pinkish and orange sky. Harry didn't ask anything else, and Arabella was grateful for that. He didn't push her into anything she didn't want to say or do. They were practically still friends, except for the occasional kiss or two.

'We should get back,' said Harry. She looped her right arm through her left as they walked back to the castle.

**Thank you for reading!**


	26. The Third Task

The Third Task

'Dumbledore reckons You-Know-Who's getting stronger as well?' Ron whispered.

Everything Arabella and Harry had seen in the Pensive, and nearly everything Dumbledore had told and shown them afterward, they now shared with Ron and Hermione – and of course, with Sirius and Remus, to whom they sent an owl the moment they had reached the castle. Arabella, Harry, Ron and Hermione sat up late in the common room once again that night, talking it all over until Arabella's mind was reeling, until she understood what Dumbledore had meant about a head becoming so full of thoughts that it would have been a relief to ship them off.

'And he trusts Snape?' Ron said. 'He really trusts Snape, even though he knows he was a Death Eater?'

'Yes,' said Harry.

Hermione had not spoken for ten minutes. She was sitting with her forehead in her hands, staring at her knees. Harry thought she too looked as though she could have done with a Pensieve.

'Rita Skeeter,' she muttered finally.

'How can you be worrying about her now?' said Ron, in utter disbelief.

'I'm not worrying about her,' Hermione said to her knees. 'I'm just thinking…remember what she said to me in the Three Broomsticks? He betrayed Arabella's mother. She reported on his trial, she knew he'd passed information to the Death Eaters. And Winky too, remember 'Ludo Bagman's a bad wizard.' Mr. Crouch would have been furious he got off, he would have talked about it at home.'

'Yeah, but Bagman didn't pass information on purpose, did he?' Hermione shrugged.

'And Fudge reckons Madame Maxime attacked Crouch?' said Ron.

'Yeah,' said Arabella, 'but he's only saying that because Crouch disappeared near the Beauxbatons carriage.'

'We never thought of her, did we?' said Ron slowly. 'Mind you, she's definitely got giant blood, and she doesn't want to admit it-'

'Of course she doesn't,' said Hermione sharply, looking up. 'Look what happened to Hagrid when Rita found out about his mother. Look at Fudge, jumping to conclusions about her, just because she's part giant. Who needs that sort of prejudice? I'd probably say I had big bones if I knew that's what I'd get for telling the truth.'

Hermione looked at her watch. 'We haven't done any practicing!' she said, looking shocked. 'We were going to do the Impediment Curse! We'll have to really get down to it tomorrow! Come on. Harry, you need to get some sleep.'

Arabella and Hermione went slowly upstairs to their dormitories. As Arabella put on her night gown, she thought about the trial. She and Harry told Ron and Hermione all about it, except for Neville's parents. She will never know what it would be like to be Neville. Kassandra died remembering her face, and Sirius is alive. As much as she hates Bellatrix and the rest for what they did to Kassandra, she hated them even more for what they did to others. Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Rabastan, Barty Jr., they all deserved everything that's coming to they and more. Then she remembered that Barty Crouch Jr. had died a year later. It was all their faults, and Voldemort's. They just had to ruin everything.

* * *

Arabella, Ron and Hermione were supposed to be studying for their exams, which would finish on the day of the third task, but they were putting most of their efforts into helping Harry prepare.

'Don't worry about it,' Hermione said shortly when Harry pointed this out to them and said he didn't mind practicing on his own for a while, 'at least we'll get top marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts. We'd never have found out about all these hexes in class.'

'Good training for when we're all Aurors,' said Ron excitedly, attempting the Impediment Curse on a wasp that had buzzed into the room and making it stop dead in midair.

The mood in the castle as they entered June became excited and tense again. Everyone was looking forward to the third task, which would take place a week before the end of term. Harry was practicing hexes at every available moment with Arabella, Hermione and Ron helping him. Professor McGonagall had given them permission to use the empty Transfiguration classroom at lunchtimes. Harry had mastered the Impediment curse, Reductor Curse, and the Four-Point was still having trouble with the shield charm, though.

'You're still doing really well, though,' Hermione said encouragingly, looking down her list and crossing off those spells they had already learned. 'Some of these are bound to come in handy.'

'Come and look at this,' said Ron, who was standing by the window. He was staring down onto the grounds. 'What's Malfoy doing?'

Arabella, Harry, and Hermione went to see. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing in the shadow of a tree below. Crabbe and Goyle seemed to be keeping a lookout; both were smirking. Malfoy was holding his hand up to his mouth and speaking into it.

'He looks like he's using a walkie-talkie,' said Harry curiously.

'He can't be,' said Hermione, 'I've told you, those sorts of things don't work around Hogwarts. Come on, Harry,' she added briskly, turning away from the window and moving back into the middle of the room, 'let's try that Shield Charm again.'

Sirius and Remus were sending daily owls now. They seemed to want to concentrate on getting Harry through the last task before anything else. They reminded that whatever was going on outside the walls of Hogwarts were not Harry's responsibilities. They also kept encouraging him to do well and keep practicing.

* * *

On the morning of the third task, Arabella got up very early, unable to sleep the previous night. It was around five o'clock in the morning. Hermione was still fast asleep and she didn't want to wake her up. Arabella got dressed very quickly and headed down for breakfast.

The Great Hall was quieter than usual as not many people were up yet. The only people Arabella recognized at the Gryffindor table were Neville, Fred and George. She sat quietly next to Neville and ate some bacon.

'Excited?' said Fred, practically jumping up and down on his seat.

Arabella shrugged.

'Want us to paint your face?' said George.

'What?' said Arabella.

'Paint your face that says 'Potter' on your forehead,' said George. 'To show your support.'

'I could just be at the stands shouting Harry's name,' said Arabella.

'Yes, but with everyone shouting, Harry won't know whose name your shouting,' said Fred.

'Who else am I going to root for?' said Arabella.

'Black,' said a rough voice from behind them. It was Mad-Eye.

'Yes?' said Arabella.

'Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall wish to see you,' he said, nodding towards the door. 'It's about the third task.'

'Oh, I'll see you guys later,' said Arabella to Neville, Fred and George.

Arabella got up and followed Mad-Eye out the doors that lead to the Great Hall and followed him towards his office. They were walking quietly as Mad-Eye kept increasing his speed. He seemed to be in a rush.

'Why do they need to see me? Is it like the second task?' asked Arabella as they were getting closer to his office. They were by the One-Eyes Witch statue that was a couple feet away from Mad-Eye's office.

'Yes,' gruffed Mad-Eye. He opened the door to his office and held it for Arabella to get in.

Arabella entered his office but saw no one there. It was empty, except for Mad-Eye's things in there, which included the Foe-Glass mirror. Arabella looked at it and saw Mad-Eye, but… his features were changing? She turned around quickly and made a reach for her wand, but he was quicker.

'STUPEFY!'

* * *

'Where's Arabella?' asked Harry, looking around for her, just as Hermione left for the library.

'Moody said Dumbledore and McGonagall wanted to see her,' said Fred. 'Something about the third task.'

Professor McGonagall came walking alongside the Gryffindor table toward him.

'Potter, the champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast,' she said.

'But the task's not till tonight!' said Harry, accidentally spilling scrambled eggs down his front, afraid he had mistaken the time.

'I'm aware of that, Potter,' she said. 'The champions' families are invited to watch the final task, you know. This is simply a chance for you to greet them.' She moved away. Harry gaped after her.

'She doesn't expect the Dursleys to turn up, does she?' he asked Ron blankly.

'Dunno,' said Ron. 'Harry, I'd better hurry, I'm going to be late for Binns. See you later.'

Harry finished his breakfast in the emptying Great Hall. He saw Fleur Delacour get up from the Ravenclaw table and join Cedric as he crossed to the side chamber and entered. Krum slouched off to join them shortly afterward. Harry stayed where he was. He really didn't want to go into the chamber. He had no family - no family who would turn up to see him risk his life, anyway. But just as he was getting up, thinking that he might as well go up to the library and do a spot more hex research, the door of the side chamber opened, and Cedric stuck his head out.

'Harry, come on, they're waiting for you!'

Harry got up. He walked across the Hall and opened the door into the chamber. Cedric and his parents were just inside the door. Viktor Krum was over in a corner, conversing with his dark-haired mother and father in rapid Bulgarian. On the other side of the room, Fleur was jabbering away in French to her mother. Fleur's little sister, Gabrielle, was holding her mother's hand. She waved at Harry, who waved back, grinning. Then he saw Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Remus and a great black dog standing in front of the fireplace, beaming at him.

'Surprise!' Mrs. Weasley said excitedly as he smiled broadly and walked over to them. 'Thought we'd come and watch you. Harry!' She bent down and kissed him on the cheek.

'You all right?' said Bill, grinning at Harry and shaking his hand.

'Hello, Harry,' said Remus, also shaking his hand. Sirius got a playful bark and Harry gave him a pat on the head.

'This is really nice of you,' Harry said to all of them. 'I thought for a moment - the Dursleys -'

'Hmm,' said Mrs. Weasley, pursing her lips. She had always refrained from criticizing the Dursleys in front of Harry, but her eyes flashed every time they were mentioned.

'It's great being back here,' said Bill, looking around the chamber (Violet, the Fat Lady's friend, winked at him from her frame). 'Haven't seen this place for five years. Is that picture of the mad knight still around? Sir Cadogan?'

'Oh yeah,' said Harry, who had met Sir Cadogan the previous year.

'And the Fat Lady?' asked Bill.

'She was here in my time,' said Mrs. Weasley. 'She gave me such a telling off one night when I got back to the dormitory at four in the morning -'

'What were you doing out of your dormitory at four in the morning?' said Bill, surveying his mother with amazement.

Mrs. Weasley grinned, her eyes twinkling.

'Your father and I had been for a nighttime stroll,' she said. 'He got caught by Apollyon Pringle - he was the caretaker in those days - your father's still got the marks.'

'Fancy giving us a tour, Harry?' said Bill.

'Yeah, okay,' said Harry, and they made their way back toward the door into the Great Hall. As they passed Amos Diggory, he looked around.

'There you are, are you?' he said, looking Harry up and down.

'Bet you're not feeling quite as full of yourself now Cedric's caught you up on points, are you?'

'What?' said Harry.

'Ignore him,' said Cedric in a low voice to Harry, frowning after his father. 'He's been angry ever since Rita Skeeters article about the Triwizard Tournament – you know, when she made out you were the only Hogwarts champion.'

'Didn't bother to correct her, though, did he?' said Amos Diggory, loudly enough for Harry to hear as he started to walk out of the door with Mrs. Weasley and Bill. 'Still…you'll show him, Ced. Beaten him once before, haven't you?'

'Rita Skeeter goes out of her way to cause trouble, Amos!' Mrs. Weasley said angrily. 'I would have thought you'd know that, working at the Ministry!'

Mr. Diggory looked as though he was going to say something angry, but his wife laid a hand on his arm, and he merely shrugged and turned away.

Harry had a very enjoyable morning walking over the sunny grounds with Bill, Mrs Weasley, Remus and Sirius, showing them the Beauxbatons carriage and the Drumstrang ship. Mrs Weasley was intrigued by the Whomping Willow as Remus and Sirius stayed a good distance away from it.

'How's Percy?' Harry asked as they walked around the greenhouses.

'Not good,' said Bill.

'He's very upset,' said Mrs. Weasley, lowering her voice and glancing around. 'The Ministry wants to keep Mr. Crouch's disappearance quiet, but Percy's been hauled in for questioning about the instructions Mr. Crouch has been sending in. They seem to think there's a chance they weren't genuinely written by him. Percy's been under a lot of strain. They're not letting him fill in for Mr. Crouch as the fifth judge tonight. Cornelius Fudge is going to be doing it.'

They returned to the castle for lunch.

'Mum – Bill – Pro, I mean, Remus!' said Ron, looking stunned, as he joined the Gryffindor table. 'What're you doing here?'

'Come to watch Harry in the last task!' said Mrs. Weasley brightly. 'I must say, it makes a lovely change, not having to cook. How was your exam?'

'Oh…okay,' said Ron. 'Couldn't remember all the goblin rebels' names, so I invented a few. It's all right,' he said, helping himself to a Cornish pasty, while Mrs. Weasley looked stern, 'they're all called stuff like Bodrod the Bearded and Urg the Unclean; it wasn't hard.'

'Where's Arabella?' asked Remus, looking around for her. Sirius was also looking around, while also chasing his tail a bit. Some third years were giggling at his antics.

Fred, George, Ginny and Neville came to sit next to them too, and Harry was having such a good time he felt almost as though he was back at the Burrow, he just wished Arabella was there. He almost had forgotten to worry about the evening's task, and not until Hermione turned up, half-way through lunch, did he remember that she had had a brainwave about Rita Skeeter.

'Are you going to tell us -?'

Hermione shook her head warningly and glanced at Mrs. Weasley.

'Hello, Hermione,' said Mrs. Weasley, much more stiffly than usual.

'Hello,' said Hermione, her smile faltering at the cold expression on Mrs. Weasley's face.

Harry looked between them, then said, 'Mrs. Weasley, you didn't believe that rubbish Rita Skeeter wrote in Witch Weekly, did you? Because Hermione's not my girlfriend.'

'Yeah,' said Neville, absentmindedly. 'It's Arabella. They were kissing in the common room.'

'What?!' said most of the people around Neville.

'Neville!' hissed Harry. 'You weren't supposed to tell anyone!'

'But I thought that was only something Rita Skeeter was making up,' said Remus, looking like a gapping fish. Sirius was temporarily stunned and was staring at Harry with big grey eyes.

'Is it true?' asked Ginny, smiling a bit.

Harry nodded.

'Why didn't you tell us?' said Hermione, looking quite furious.

'Well, technical she said no,' said Harry, uncertain, 'but we're not sure?'

'What does that mean?' said Ron, looking confused.

'I don't know,' said Harry, kind of hating Neville at the moment. 'We're not together, we're together. It's confusing.'

'Then why does Neville know before us?' said Hermione, talking fast. 'No offense, Neville.'

'He walked in when we kissed,' said Harry, not looking at anyone.

Beside him, Sirius growled.

'Where is she?' said Hermione, looking around the Great Hall for Arabella. 'I'd like to give her a piece of my mind.'

'Dumbledore and McGonagall wanted to see her,' said Harry, 'something about the third task. Can we please talk about something else?'

They, of course, ignored him and bombarded him with questions. Sirius refused to look him in the eyes and Remus was really quiet as he stared at his food with a small frown. Mrs Weasley was considerably warmer to Hermione but was quite mad at Harry that he didn't tell them. Hermione was also mad, but Ron, Ginny, George, Fred, Bill, and Neville were happily talking about the money they were getting from people and giving to others.

They ate through lunch and stay there for the evening feast. Ludo Bagman and Cornelius Fudge had joined the staff table now. Bagman looked quite cheerful, but Cornelius Fudge, who was sitting next to Madame Maxime, looked stern and was not talking. Madame Maxime was concentrating on her plate, and Harry thought her eyes looked red. Hagrid kept glancing along the table at her.

There were more courses than usual, but Harry, who was starting to feel really nervous now, didn't eat much. As the enchanted ceiling overhead began to fade from blue to a dusky purple, Dumbledore rose to his feet at the staff table, and silence fell.

'Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now.'

Harry got up. The Gryffindors all along the table were applauding him; the Weasleys, Remus, Hermione and Neville all wished him good luck as Sirius licked his hand and barked happily. Harry headed off out of the Great Hall with Cedric, Fleur, and Victor for the third and final task.

* * *

Arabella suddenly woke up and gasped. She was tied to something hard and cold very tightly. She let out a scream when she tried to move against the ropes. Her left arm was broken and it seemed like her right ankle was broken or twisted, either way, it hurts. The sky seemed to be setting, so she was able to see her surroundings a bit. The first thing she noticed was the glowing trophy that was in front of her. It was glowing blue and the word 'TRIWIZARD CHAMPION!' was engraved on it. Then she noticed that she was in a graveyard and was tied to a very large headstone.

'Good, you're awake!' said a cheerful rough voice walking from behind her.

Arabella tried to turn around, but could see the person. He walked in her eye sight and her eyes almost popped out. It was Barty Crouch Jr.

'You!' she gasped.

'Me,' he said, smirking.

'You're supposed to be dead!'

'Change in circumstances,' he said shrugging.

'What do you want?' spat out Arabella.

He ignored her question and stepped closer to her, and closer and closer until their noses were almost touching. It was too close for her liking. The ideal distance Arabella thought they should be was her standing on land and he buried fifty feet under. She turned away as he kept staring at her, looking at every single inch of her. He made motions to touch her, but just hovered his right hand over her. It seemed like he was waiting to do this properly for a long time.

'You look remarkably like her,' he whispered, tilting his head to one side.

Arabella could feel his breath on her. He really needed to brush his teeth or something.

'Did you know that?' he said.

'Yes,' she said. 'Everybody always says that.'

'Not your mother,' he spat out, taking a step back. '_Her_. You look exactly like her, except for the eyes, hers was blue.'

'I don't know who you're talking about,' said Arabella, turning back to him. 'Why am I here? What do you want? Why aren't you dead? Where's the real Mad-Eye?'

'You'll find out soon,' said Crouch.

He then started to talk, but not directly at Arabella. He seemed to be reminiscing about something. He was very vague.

'He did always have something of a sweet spot for your mother. She was quite ruthless, always willing to prove herself, didn't help that she also spread her legs, too' said Crouch, smiling.

'What the hell are you talking about?' said Arabella, furious.

'Nobody really saw her that much,' continued Crouch, ignoring Arabella. 'They usually talked to each other privately. We only saw her on occasions when we had to attack. She would have made a good Death Eater, if only she wasn't on Dumbledore's side, and pregnant with you. Shame really.'

'Are you done?' said Arabella. 'Cause it's getting kind of boring, listening to you blabber –'

Barty grabbed her jaw painfully and looked furious before smiling.

'Word of advice, Black, just say yes. Your life would be easier,' he said, letting go of her jaw and walking toward the glowing trophy.

'The chances of my life being easy are slim to none,' said Arabella.

Barty laughed before turning back to her.

'Just sit back, relax, and pray that somehow Potter manages to save your life,' he said. 'He'll just some waltzing in, save your life and live happily ever after,' he added mockingly. 'You'll be the damsel in distress while he'll be the knight and shining armour.' He then let out a barking laugh

'I don't need a boy handling my shit,' Arabella shot back. 'I am capable of being my own 'knight and shining armour'.'

Barty laughed again.

'Black, you're tied to a headstone, your arm's broken, so is your leg, and you don't have a wand. Tell me, how are you going to get out of this?'

Arabella said nothing, but just glared at him. She hoped that the longed she concentrated, the more chances of him bursting into flames.

'I'll see you in a couple hours, Black,' said Barty. 'Dead or alive, I'll see you later.'

Barty gave a mocking wave before touching the handles of the trophy and disappearing in front of her eyes. It was a Portkey.

Arabella was alone and was feeling chilly. She didn't know what was happening. All of a sudden, Barty Crouch Jr. is alive and pretending to be Mad-Eye. It was most likely on Voldemort's orders, but nobody knows where he is. Kassandra was definitely a Death Eater, but most likely in the early stages before they were branded, and she was close to Voldemort. This all made sense to Arabella, even if she didn't like it, but everybody kept talk about this mystery girl that she didn't know. All she knew was that Remus called her 'Arry', she looked like Arabella, but with blue eyes (if Crouch was talking about the same person) and something really bad happened to make people stop talking about her.

Arabella wanted to not be kept in the dark anymore. She just wanted answers, but now she just wanted to go back to Hogwarts. She stayed there silently, watching the sunset and hoped that her wishes were somehow answered.

**Thank you for reading! The part with Arabella and Barty happens sometime before Harry goes and gets ready for the third task. So, while he's eating dinner with everyone, it happens. And I also wanted to thank because I couldn't think of a way for Arabella to get to the graveyard. Thank you so much!**


	27. Flesh, Blood, and Bone

**disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, just Arabella. Hope you like it!**

Flesh, Blood, and Bone

Arabella just stood there, trying to lean on her good ankle, and watching the sky. She tried to get out of the ropes, but nothing happened; it was too tight. It seemed like ages before she saw someone. Two people suddenly appeared in front of her, Harry and Cedric, to her surprise. They both slammed to the ground.

'Harry!' gasped Arabella. 'Cedric!'

'Ara!' said Harry, trying to get up, but his leg seemed to be injured. Cedric managed to get up and was trying to untie her from the headstone, but nothing was working. He used his wand, but that didn't help either.

'Listen to me, both of you,' said Arabella, looking at Cedric and Harry. 'You have to get out of here – don't give me that look! – You have to go and get help! The trophy's a Portkey, touch it, go and get help, and whatever you do, don't trust Mad-Eye! Go!'

'What's going on?' said Cedric, slightly panicking.

'There's no time to talk about this now!' said Arabella. 'Trust me, go and get help!'

'Someone's coming,' Harry suddenly said. He and Cedric pulled out their wands and turned towards the figure.

Squinting through the darkness, they watched the figure drawing nearer, walking steadily toward them between the graves. Arabella couldn't make out the face, but from the way it was walking and holding its arms, it was carrying something. He was short, and wearing a hooded cloak pulled up over his head to obscure his face. It stopped beside a towering marble headstone, only six feet from them.

And them, something happened to Harry. His wand slipped from his fingers as he put his hands over his face. His knees buckled and he was on the ground. His scar was hurting him. Cedric looked at Harry, unable to understand what was happening. He made a move to help Harry, but then –

'Kill the spare!' said a high, cold voice.

'Avada Kedavra!' screeched a second voice.

'NO!'

A blast of green light blazed in front of her, and Cedric was dead. He was lying on the ground beside Harry, who did look at him for a moment. Arabella stared at Cedric's face, with tears silently running down her face. She didn't know him at all, she's never spoken to him, but he didn't deserve this. His eyes were open, blank and expressionless. His mouth was half-open, which looked slightly surprised. Harry was also staring at Cedric's face. It didn't seem like Cedric's death registered through to him. Then he was pulled to his feet, but not by his own will.

The man in the cloak had out down his bundle, lit his wand, and was dragging Harry toward the marble headstone.

'Let him go!' yelled Arabella, struggling through the ropes that bound her and trying to ignore the pain in her left arm and her ankle.

The man ignored her and conjured up tight ropes around Harry and the headstone, which was a couple away from Arabella. Harry was struggling against the ropes and the man hit him.

'You!' gasped Harry, staring at the man.

Arabella didn't know who it was, she couldn't see his face. The man was busy checking the tightness of the cords, and once he made sure that Harry was bound tightly to the headstone, he took something from the inside of his cloak and stuffed it in Harry's mouth, making sure the he couldn't make a sound. He then turned away from Harry and hurried away.

Arabella couldn't see where the man had gone, but she could see Cedric's body right in front of her, and some feet away, the Triwizard Cup. Harry's wand was on the ground next to Cedric's feet.

There was some fast wheezy breathing that was growing louder and louder. The man came back within Arabella's vision and she saw him pushing a stone cauldron to the foot of a grave that was close by. It seemed to be full of some sort of liquid.

The grave that the man had put the cauldron near had the bundle he was previously carrying. He was busying himself at the bottom of the cauldron with a wand, and there were crackling flames beneath it. The liquid in the cauldron seemed to heat very fast. The surface began to bubble and sent out fiery sparks, as though it was on fire.

'Hurry!' said the high, cold voice again.

The surface of the water was blazing with sparks now.

'It is ready Master,' said a shaky voice that Arabella recognized. It was Peter Pettigrew. It was almost impossible to forget his quivering, squeaky voice.

'Now…' said the cold voice.

Pettigrew pulled open the robes on the ground, revealing what was inside them, and Arabella let out a yell in surprise.

The thing that Pettigrew had been carrying had the shape of a crouch human child, but Arabella had never seen a child look like that. It was hairless, scaly-looking with dark, raw, reddish black skin. Its arms and legs were thin and frail, and its face was flat and snakelike, with gleaming red eyes.

The thing seemed almost helpless. It raised it thin arms, put them around Pettigrew's neck, and he lifted it. As soon as he did, Arabella saw the look of repulsion on his face as he carried the thing to the rim of the cauldron. And then Pettigrew lowered the creature into the cauldron. There was a hiss, and it vanished below the surface. There was a soft thud and the creature hit the bottom of the cauldron.

'Let it drown,' Arabella whispered softly, praying to anything that could hear here. 'Please… let it drown…'

Pettigrew was speaking. His voice was shaking, scared beyond his wits. He raised his wand, closed his eyes, and spoke.

'Bone of the father, unknowingly given you will renew your son!'

The surface of the grave at Harry's feet cracked. Terrified, Arabella watched as a fine trickle of dust rose into the air at Pettigrew's command and fell into the cauldron. The surface of the water broke and hissed. It sent sparks in all directions and turned a lethal-looking blue.

And now Pettigrew was whimpering. He pulled a long, thin, shining silver dagger from inside his cloak. His voice broke into terrified sobs.

'Flesh – of the servant – w – willingly given – you will – revive – your master.'

He stretched his right hand out in front of him – the hand with the missing finger. He gripped the dagger very tightly in his left hand and swung it upward. The potions had turned into a fiery red colour.

Arabella watched in horror as Pettigrew's hand fall into the cauldron with a small splash. He let out a scream that made it feel as though it was her that was stabbed with the dagger. He tried to hold himself together, but was failing at it. He was gasping and moaning with agony.

Pettigrew slowly walked towards Harry and said, 'B – blood of the enemy… forcibly taken… you will… resurrect your foe.'

Arabella felt useless at this moment. She tried to get free from the ropes, but it was too tight. Harry did the same, but it was no use. Arabella watched as Pettigrew slit a long cut on Harry's right and blood seeping down the sleeves of his torn robes. Pettigrew, still panting in pain, rumbled in his pockets for a glass vial and held it to Harry's cut, so that a dribble of blood fell into it.

He staggered back to the cauldron with Harry's blood. He poured it inside. The liquid turned instantly into a blinding white. Pettigrew dropped to his knees beside the cauldron, then slumped sideways and lay on the ground, cradling the bleeding stump of his arm, gasping and sobbing.

The cauldron was simmering, sending sparks in all directions. Nothing happened…

'Let it drown,' whispered Arabella, small tears flowing down her face. 'Please… let it have gone wrong…'

And then, suddenly, the sparks emanating from the cauldron were extinguished. A rush of white steam rose thickly from the cauldron instead, blocking everything in front of her, so that she could see Pettigrew or Cedric but the vapor hanging in the air…

'Let it drown,' whispered Arabella. 'Let it be dead… please… it's gone wrong… please….'

Bu then, through the mist in front of her, she saw the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising from inside the cauldron. She felt an icy surge of terror as she looked on.

'Robe me,' said the high, cold voice from behind the steam, and Pettigrew, sobbing and moaning, scrambled to pick up the black robes from the ground, got to his feet, reached up, and pulled them onehanded over his masters head.

The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, looked at Arabella before staring at Harry, who stared back. Whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snake with slits for nostrils…

Lord Voldemort had risen again.

**Thank you for reading!**


	28. The Death Eaters

**disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, just Arabella. Hope you like it!**

The Death Eaters

Voldemort looked away from Harry and began to examine his own body. His hands were like large pale spiders. His long white fingers caressed his own chest, his arms, and his face. His red eyes gleamed more brightly through the darkness. He held up his hands and flexed his fingers. He took no notice of Wormtail, who lay on the ground twitching and bleeding on the ground.

Voldemort slipped one of his hands into a pocket and drew out a wand. He caressed it gently too, and then raised it, and pointed it at Wormtail, who was lifted off the ground and thrown against the headstone where Harry was tied to the foot of it and lay there, crumpled up and crying. Voldemort turned his eyes upon Harry, laughing a high, cold, mirthless laugh.

Wormtail's robes were shining with blood now; he had wrapped the stump of his arm in them.

'My Lord…' he choked, 'my Lord…you promised…you did promise…'

'Hold out your arm,' said Voldemort lazily.

'Oh Master…thank you, Master…'

He extended the bleeding stump, but Voldemort laughed again.

'The other arm, Wormtail.'

'Master, please…please…'

Voldemort bent down and pulled out Wormtail's left arm; he forced the sleeve of Wormtail's robes up past his elbows, and Arabella saw something like a vivid red tattoo there. A skull with a snake protruding from its mouth; it was the Dark Mark. Voldemort examined it carefully, ignoring Wormtail.

'It is back,' he said softly, 'they will all have noticed it…and now, we shall see…now we shall know…'

He pressed his long white forefinger to the brand on Wormtail's arm.

Wormtail let out a scream as Voldemort removed his fingers after a few seconds. The tattoo had turned jet black. With a look of satisfaction, Voldemort straightened up, threw his head back, and stared around at the dark graveyard.

'How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?' he whispered, his gleaming red eyes fixed upon the stars. 'And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?'

He began to pace up and down before them, eyes sweeping the graveyard all the while. After a minute or so, he looked at Harry, a cruel smile twisting on his snakelike face.

'You stand, Harry Potter, upon the remains if my late father,' he hissed softly. 'A Muggle and a fool… very like your dear mother. But they both had their uses, did they not? Your mother died to defend you as a child… and I killed my father, and see how useful he has proved himself, in death…'

Voldemort laughed. Up and down he paced, looking all around him as he walked.

'You see that house upon the hill? My father lived there. My mother, a witch who lived here in this village, fell in love with him. but he abandoned her when she told him what she was… He didn't like magic, my father… He left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was even born, and she died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage… but I vowed to find him… I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name… Tom Riddle…'

Still he paced, his red eyes darting from grave to grave.

'Listen to me, reliving family history…' he said quietly, 'why, I am growing quite sentimental… But look! My true family returns…'

The air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. Between graves, in every shadowy space, wizards were Apparating. All of them were hooded and masked. And one by one they moved forward… slowly, cautiously, as though they could hardly believe that Voldemort was standing there, waiting for them. Then one of the Death Eater fell to his knees, crawled toward Voldemort and kissed the hem of his black robes.

'Master… Master' he murmured.

The Death Eater behind him did the same. Each of them approaching Voldemort on his knees and kissing his robes, before backing away and standing up, forming a silent circle, which enclosed Tom Riddle's grave, Harry, Arabella, Voldemort and Wormtail, who was still sobbing and twitching. Yet they left gaps in the circle, as though waiting for more people. _Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Rabastan and Barty_ thought Arabella _and the others that are in Azkaban, rotting. _Voldemort did not seem to expect more. He looked around at the hooded faces, and there was a shiver.

'Welcome, Death Eater,' said Voldemort quietly. 'Thirteen years… thirteen years since last we met. Yet you answer my call as though it were yesterday, we are still united under the Dark Mark, then! Or are we?'

He pulled back his face and sniffed.

'I smell guilt' he said. 'There is a stench of guilt upon the air. I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact – such prompt appearances! And I ask myself… why did this band of wizards never come to the aid of their master, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?'

No one spoke. No one moved except Wormtail, was on the ground, still sobbing over his bleeding arm.

'And I answer myself,' whispered Voldemort, 'they must have believed me broken, they thought I was gone. They slipped back among my enemies, and they pleaded innocence, and ignorance, and bewitchment… And then I ask myself but how could they have believed I would not rise again? Then, who knew the steps I took, long ago, to guard myself against mortal death? They, who had seen proof of the immensity of my power when I was mightier than any wizard living? And I answer myself, perhaps they believed a still greater power could exist, one that could vanquish even Lord Voldemort… perhaps they now pay allegiance to another… perhaps that champion of commoners, of Mudbloods and Muggles, Albus Dumbledore?'

At the mention of Dumbledore's name, the Death Eater stirred, and some mutter and shook their heads. Voldemort ignored them.

'It is a disappointment to me… I confess myself disappointed…'

One of the men suddenly flung himself forward, breaking the circle. Trembling from head to foot, he collapsed at Voldemort's feet.

'Master!' he shrieked, 'Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!'

Voldemort began to laugh. He raised his wand.

'Crucio!'

The Death Eater on the ground squirmed and shrieked. Voldemort raised his wand. The Death Eater lay flat on the ground, gasping.

'Get up, Avery,' said Voldemort softly. 'Stand up. You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen long years… I want thirteen years' repayment before I forgive you. Wormtail here has paid some of his debt, have you not, Wormtail?'

He looked down at Wormtail, who continued to sob.

'You returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, don't you?'

'Yes, Master,' moaned Wormtail, 'please. Master…please…'

'Yet you helped return me to my body,' said Voldemort coolly, watching Wormtail sob on the ground. 'Worthless and traitorous as you are, you helped me…and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers…'

Voldemort raised his wand again and whirled it through the air. A streak of what looked like liquefied silver hung shining at the tip of his wand. Momentarily shapeless, it writhed and then formed itself into a gleaming replica of a human hand, bright as moonlight, which soared downward and fixed itself upon Wormtail's bleeding wrist.

Wormtail's sobbing stopped abruptly. His breathing harsh and ragged, he raised his head and stared in disbelief at the silver hand, now attached seamlessly to his arm, as though he were wearing a dazzling glove. He flexed the shining fingers, then, trembling, picked up a small twig on the ground and crushed it into powder.

'My Lord,' he whispered. 'Master…it is beautiful…thank you…thank you…'

He scrambled forward on his knees and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes.

'May your loyalty never waver again, Wormtail,' said Voldemort.

'No, my Lord…never, my Lord…'

Wormtail stood up and took his place in the circle, staring at his powerful new hand, his face still shining with tears. Voldemort now approached the man on Wormtail's right.

'Lucius, my slippery friend,' he whispered, halting before him. 'I am told that you have not renounced the old ways, though to the world you present a respectable face. You are still ready to take the lead in a spot of Muggle-torture, I believe? Yet you never tried to find me, Lucius…Your exploits at the Quidditch World Cup were fun, I daresay…but might not your energies have been better directed toward finding and aiding your master?'

'My Lord, I was constantly on the alert,' came Lucius Malfoy's voice swiftly from beneath the hood. 'Had there been any sign from you, any whisper of your whereabouts, I would have been at your side immediately, nothing could have prevented me -'

'And yet you ran from my Mark, when a faithful Death Eater sent it into the sky last summer?' said Voldemort lazily, and Mr. Malfoy stopped talking abruptly. 'Yes, I know all about that, Lucius…You have disappointed me…I expect more faithful service in the future.'

'Of course, my Lord, of course…You are merciful, thank you…'

Voldemort moved on, and stopped, staring at the space - large enough for two people - that separated Malfoy and the next man.

'The Lestranges should stand here,' said Voldemort quietly. 'But they are entombed in Azkaban. They were faithful. They went to Azkaban rather than renounce me…When Azkaban is broken open, the Lestranges will be honored beyond their dreams. The dementors will join us…they are our natural allies… we will recall the banished giants…I shall have all my devoted servants returned to me, and an army of creatures whom all fear…'

He walked on. Some of the Death Eaters he passed in silence, but he paused before others and spoke to them.

'Macnair…destroying dangerous beasts for the Ministry of Magic now, Wormtail tells me? You shall have better victims than that soon, Macnair. Lord Voldemort will provide…'

'Thank you, Master…thank you,' murmured Macnair.

'And here' - Voldemort moved on to the two largest hooded figures - 'we have Crabbe…you will do better this time, will you not, Crabbe? And you, Goyle?'

They bowed clumsily, muttering dully.

'Yes, Master…'

'We will, Master…'

'The same goes for you, Nott,' said Voldemort quietly as he walked past a stooped figure in Mr. Goyles shadow.

'My Lord, I prostrate myself before you, I am your most faithful -'

'That will do,' said Voldemort.

He had reached the largest gap of all, and he stood surveying it with his blank, red eyes, as though he could see people standing there.

'And here we have seven missing Death Eaters…three dead in my service. One, too cowardly to return…he will pay. One, who I believe has left me forever…he will be killed, of course… one who should have been…and one, who remains my most faithful servant, and who has already reentered my service.'

The Death Eaters stirred, and Arabella saw their eyes dart sideways at one another through their masks.

'He is at Hogwarts, that faithful servant, and it was through his efforts that our young friend arrived here tonight…

'Yes,' said Voldemort, a grin curling on his lipless mouth as the eyes of the circle looked on at Harry and Arabella. 'Harry Potter and Arabella Black have kindly joined us for my rebirthing party. One might go as far as to call them my guests of honor.'

There was a silence. Then the Death Eater to the right of Wormtail stepped forward, and Lucius Malfoy's voice spoke from under the mask.

'Master, we crave to know…we beg you to tell us…how you have achieved this…this miracle…how you managed to return to us…'

'Ah, what a story it is, Lucius,' said Voldemort. 'And it begins - and ends – with my young friend here.'

He walked lazily over to stand next to Harry, so that the eyes of the whole circle were upon the two of them.

'You know, of course, that they have called this boy my downfall?' Voldemort said softly, his red eyes upon Harry, whose scar began to burn so fiercely that he almost screamed in agony. 'You all know that on the night I lost my powers and my body, I tried to kill him. His mother died in the attempt to save him – and unwittingly provided him with a protection I admit I had not foreseen…I could not touch the boy.'

Voldemort raised one of his long white fingers and put it very close to Harry's cheek.

'His mother left upon him the traces other sacrifice…This is old magic, I should have remembered it, I was foolish to overlook it…but no matter. I can touch him now.'

Arabella could see the tip of a very long white finger touch Harry's cheek. It looked like Harry was burning with pain.

'Don't touch him!' snapped Arabella very loudly.

Voldemort let go of Harry's cheek is surprise that someone dared interrupt him. He turned slowly to Arabella and suddenly smiled. He moved closer to her.

'Arabella Black,' he hissed quietly. 'I had almost forgotten about you, how foolish of me. To have forgotten you is to have forgotten your mother, how foolish indeed.'

He stepped closer and she could practically fell his breath on her. He looked at her with those piercing red eyes, and Arabella wished she didn't interrupt him. He moved on of his white long fingers close to her cheeks, but didn't touch her.

'You look very much like her,' he said quietly. 'It's such a shame, what happened to her to in the end… She had such great potential. She would have made an amazing Death Eater if she wasn't already influenced by that Mudblood loving fool, Albus Dumbledore,' he spat out that name, looking past Arabella with a murderous expression.

He turned back to her, and said, 'But you can correct her errors, my dear' – Arabella wanted to vomit at that – 'she belonged with us, and so do you.'

He drew back his hand and waved his wand carelessly. The ropes that bound Arabella disappeared. She fell to the ground in pain as she landed on her bad ankle. She was flat on the ground and crawled towards Cedric's body. Voldemort watched her with a cool expression. He stepped closer to her and put one foot on her bad ankle with painful force.

Arabella wanted to scream with agony, but didn't. She bit on her lips painfully to make sure that so sound came out of her. Tears were streaming down her face as she clutched onto Cedric's arm.

Harry was trying to say something, but his voice was muffled by the thing that was in his mouth.

Voldemort laughed softly, then removed his foot and continued on with his story.

'I miscalculated my friends, I admit it. I never foresaw that Kassandra Anastas was still working with Dumbledore, or that she would become pregnant. It was such a shame, but now, all can be corrected, right, Arabella Black?'

Arabella didn't answer him or look at him.

'How perfect would it be if you took your mother's place?' said Voldemort, a twisted smile forming on his face. 'How prefect would it be if you fulfilled everything she said she would do? Your family would be proud, so would I.'

'No,' said Arabella, shaking her head. 'No.'

'No?' repeated Voldemort, gesturing to the large empty gap in the circle of Death Eaters. 'This, this spot was meant for her. She even agreed to be coming one of us. Are you sure you do not wish to do the same? To correct her mistakes and make everything right? You could be great you know, you can have everything you ever wanted.'

'No,' said Arabella as firmly as she can.

'Such a shame,' said Voldemort coldly, shaking his head. 'No matter, Bellatrix will have you. I'm sure she'll be pleased to see that she could finish the job now. But first…'

He pointed his wand at her injured ankle.

'Crucio!'

Whatever pain she felt before this, from Bellatrix, was nothing compare to what she felt now. Her bones felt like they were on fire. She twitched and rolled on the ground madly. She wanted it to end… she just wanted everything to end…

Harry tried to say something again, but his voice was muffled.

Voldemort laughed softly before lifting his wand. Arabella was breathing heavily.

'My little revenge,' he hissed softly towards Arabella. 'Your mother shouldn't have betrayed me. It was foolish of her to think that I would forget. Bellatrix finished her for me, and I shall give you to her. She will be pleased to see you, I'm sure.'

He looked at her shaking body and smiled. Arabella's ankle was bleeding, her left arm was bent in an awkward position, and she was crying. Harry was still on the headstone, trying to get free from it.

'Pain beyond pain, my friends; nothing could have prepared me as my curse deflected by Lily Potter's foolish sacrifice, and it rebounded upon myself. I was ripped from my body, I was less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost…but still, I was alive. What I was, even I do not know…I, who have gone further than anybody along the path that leads to immortality. You know my goal - to conquer death. And now, I was tested, and it appeared that one or more of my experiments had worked…for I had not been killed, though the curse should have done it. Nevertheless, I was as powerless as the weakest creature alive, and without the means to help myself…for I had no body, and every spell that might have helped me required the use of a wand…

'I remember only forcing myself, sleeplessly, endlessly, second by second, to exist…I settled in a faraway place, in a forest, and I waited…Surely, one of my faithful Death Eaters would try and find me…one of them would come and perform the magic I could not, to restore me to a body…but I waited in vain…'

The shiver ran once more around the circle of listening Death Eaters. Voldemort let the silence spiral horribly before continuing.

'Only one power remained to me. I could possess the bodies of others. But I dared not go where other humans were plentiful, for I knew that the Aurors were still abroad and searching for me. I sometimes inhabited animals - snakes, of course, being my preference - but I was little better off inside them than as pure spirit, for their bodies were ill adapted to perform magic…and my possession of them shortened their lives; none of them lasted long…

'Then…four years ago…the means for my return seemed assured. A wizard - young, foolish, and gullible - wandered across my path in the forest I had made my home. Oh, he seemed the very chance I had been dreaming of…for he was a teacher at Dumbledore's school…he was easy to bend to my will…he brought me back to this country, and after a while, I took possession of his body, to supervise him closely as he carried out my orders. But my plan failed. I did not manage to steal the Sorcerer's Stone. I was not to be assured immortal life. I was thwarted…thwarted, once again, by Harry Potter and the lovable sidekick, Arabella Black…'

He put his foot back on Arabella's ankle, but not with as much force as before. Silence once more; nothing was stirring, not even the leaves on the trees. The Death Eaters were quite motionless, the glittering eyes in their masks fixed upon Voldemort, Harry and Arabella, on the ground.

'The servant died when I left his body, and I was left as weak as ever I had been,' Voldemort continued. 'I returned to my hiding place far away, and I will not pretend to you that I didn't then fear that I might never regain my powers… Yes, that was perhaps my darkest hour…I could not hope that I would be sent another wizard to possess…and I had given up hope, now, that any of my Death Eaters cared what had become of me…'

One or two of the masked wizards in the circle moved uncomfortably, but Voldemort took no notice.

'And then, not even a year ago, when I had almost abandoned hope, it happened at last…a servant returned to me. Wormtail here, who had faked his own death to escape justice, was driven out of hiding by those he had once counted friends, and decided to return to his master. He sought me in the country where it had long been rumored I was hiding…helped, of course, by the rats he met along the way. Wormtail has a curious affinity with rats, do you not, Wormtail? His filthy little friends told him there was a place, deep in an Albanian forest, that they avoided, where small animals like themselves had met their deaths by a dark shadow that possessed them…

'But his journey back to me was not smooth, was it, Wormtail? For, hungry one night, on the edge of the very forest where he had hoped to find me, he foolishly stopped at an inn for some food…and who should he meet there, but one Bertha Jorkins, a witch from the Ministry of Magic.

'Now see the way that fate favors Lord Voldemort. This might have been the end of Wormtail, and of my last hope for regeneration. But Wormtail - displaying a presence of mind I would never have expected from him - convinced Bertha Jorkins to accompany him on a nighttime stroll. He overpowered her…he brought her to me. And Bertha Jorkins, who might have ruined all, proved instead to be a gift beyond my wildest dreams…for - with a little persuasion - she became a veritable mine of information.

'She told me that the Triwizard Tournament would be played at Hogwarts this year. She told me that she knew of a faithful Death Eater who would be only too willing to help me, if I could only contact him. She told me many things…but the means I used to break the Memory Charm upon her were powerful, and when I had extracted all useful information from her, her mind and body were both damaged beyond repair. She had now served her purpose. I could not possess her. I disposed of her.'

Voldemort smiled his terrible smile, his red eyes blank and pitiless.

'Wormtail's body, of course, was ill adapted for possession, as all assumed him dead, and would attract far too much attention if noticed. However, he was the able-bodied servant I needed, and, poor wizard though he is, Wormtail was able to follow the instructions I gave him, which would return me to a rudimentary, weak body of my own, a body I would be able to inhabit while awaiting the essential ingredients for true rebirth…a spell or two of my own invention…a little help from my dear Nagini,' Voldemorts red eyes fell upon the ground, 'a potion concocted from unicorn blood, and the snake venom Nagini provided…I was soon returned to an almost human form, and strong enough to travel.

'There was no hope of stealing the Sorcerer's Stone anymore, for I knew that Dumbledore would have seen to it that it was destroyed. But I was willing to embrace mortal life again, before chasing immortality. I set my sights lower…I would settle for my old body back again, and my old strength.

'I knew that to achieve this - it is an old piece of Dark Magic, the potion that revived me tonight - I would need three powerful ingredients. Well, one of them was already at hand, was it not, Wormtail? Flesh given by a servant…

'My father's bone, naturally, meant that we would have to come here, where he was buried. But the blood of a foe…Wormtail would have had me use any wizard, would you not, Wormtail? Any wizard who had hated me…as so many of them still do. But I knew the one I must use, if I was to rise again, more powerful than I had been when I had fallen. I wanted Harry Potter's blood. I wanted the blood of the one who had stripped me of power thirteen years ago…for the lingering protection his mother once gave him would then reside in my veins too…

'But how to get at Harry Potter? For he has been better protected than I think even he knows, protected in ways devised by Dumbledore long ago, when it fell to him to arrange the boy's future. Dumbledore invoked an ancient magic, to ensure the boy's protection as long as he is in his relations' care. Not even I can touch him there…Then, of course, there was the Quidditch World Cup…I thought his protection might be weaker there, away from his relations and Dumbledore, but I was not yet strong enough to attempt kidnap in the midst of a horde of Ministry wizards. And then, the boy would return to Hogwarts, where he is under the crooked nose of that Muggle-loving fool from morning until night. So how could I take him?

'Why…by using Bertha Jorkins's information, of course. Use my one faithful Death Eater, stationed at Hogwarts, to make sure he got as close as possible to the girl… to ensure that the boy's name was entered into the Goblet of Fire. Use my Death Eater to make sure he got the girl to come her without any problems… to ensure that the boy won the tournament - that he touched the Triwizard Cup first - the cup which my Death Eater had turned into a Portkey, which would bring him here, beyond the reach of Dumbledore's help and protection, and into my waiting arms. And here he is…the boy you all believed had been my downfall…'

Voldemort moved slowly forward and turned to face Harry. He raised his wand.

'Crucio!'

Harry was twitching and turning as best as he can to get away from the curse, but nothing was working. He looked like he wanted to scream, but no sound came out.

'Stop it!' screamed Arabella in a hoarse voice. 'Stop it! Please!'

And Voldemort lifted the curse slowly, and turned towards Arabella. Harry was hanging limply in the ropes binding him to the headstone of Voldemort's father. The Death Eaters were laughing.

'What are you willing to do for this boy?' Voldemort said softly, tilting his head a bit, looking curious.

'Anything,' said Arabella.

Voldemort looked at her closely with a disgusted expression.

'Love,' sneered Voldemort. 'What a foolish notion. You mother loved her family so much that she was willing to sacrifice her life to get revenge. Foolish. Lily Potter loved her son, and sacrificed her life for him. Foolish. And you, you loved Harry Potter so much that you are willing to sacrifice your life to make sure that he is safe, when all he's ever done is bring you heartache and empty promises. Foolish.'

Voldemort turned back towards the Death Eaters.

'It is foolish to think that anybody could be as strong as me,' he said. 'But I want there to be no mistake in anybody's mind. Harry Potter escaped me by a lucky chance. And I am now going to prove my power by killing him, here and now, in front of you all, when there is no Dumbledore to help him, no mother to die for him, and no girl to stop me. I will give him his chance. He will be allowed to fight, and you will be left in no doubt which of us is the stronger. Just a little longer, Nagini, and you can have them both,' he whispered, as a snake glided away through the grass to where the Death Eaters stood watching.

'Now untie him, Wormtail, and give him back his wand.'

**Okay, I'm a fail. Everything that I wanted to write in this chapter flew over my head. So, of it's not clear, because I'm not sure if I wrote it right, Voldemort wants Arabella to join his ranks because of Kassandra. More on the whole Kassandra and Voldemort relationship later. **


	29. Prior Incantatem

**disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, just Arabella. Hope you like it! It's a bit short... but somebody's in there! Someone you don't know! :D **

Prior Incantatem

Wormtail approached Harry, who scrambled to find his feet, to support his own weight before the ropes were untied. Wormtail raised his hand, pulled out the material gagging Harry, and then cut through the bonds tying Harry to the gravestone.

Harry's legs shook under him as he stood on the grave. The Death Eater formed a tighter circle around them, so that the gaps where the missing Death Eaters should have stood were filled.

Wormtail walked out of the circle to where Cedric's body was. Arabella tried her best to move Cedric away so that Wormtail wouldn't touch him. Wormtail got Harry's wand without looking at Arabella and shoved it into Harry's hand, also without looking at him. Then Wormtail resumed his place in the circle of watching Death Eaters.

'You have been taught how to duel Harry Potter?' said Voldemort softly, his red eyes glinting through the darkness.

Arabella remembered the dueling club they had two years ago at Hogwarts. They only thing they learned was the Disarming Spell, 'Expelliarmus'… how was that supposed to help Harry against Voldemort and his thirty-something Death Eaters? She didn't even have her wand with her, most likely with Crouch Jr. Harry was most likely going to face the Avada Kedavra curse – Voldemort would probably want to destroy Harry once and for all.

'We bow to each other. Harry,' said Voldemort, bending a little, but keeping his face upturned to Harry. 'Come, the niceties must be observed… Dumbledore would like to show manners… Bow to death, Harry…'

The Death Eaters were laughing again. Voldemort was smiling. Harry did not bow. Arabella knew what he was doing. If Harry was going to die soon, he was not going to let Voldemort play him…

'I said, bow,' Voldemort said, raising his wand, and Harry bowed. _Imperious Curse_ thought Arabella. The Death Eaters laughed harder than ever.

'Very good,' said Voldemort softly, as he raised his wand. 'And now you face me, like a man… straight-backed and proud, the way your father died… And now – we duel.'

Voldemort raised his wand, and before Harry could even move, he was hit by the Cruciatus curse. He was screaming, twisting and shaking on the ground. Rather than sitting on the ground, clutching Cedric's lifeless body, Arabella wanted to do something. But she knew if she did something, or said something, it would be worse for Harry.

And then it stopped. Harry rolled over and scrambled to his feet. He was shaking uncontrollably; he staggered sideways into the wall of watching Death Eater, and they pushed him away back toward Voldemort.

'A little break,' said Voldemort, 'a little pause… That hurt, didn't it, Harry? You don't want me to do that again do you?'

Harry didn't answer.

'I asked you whether you want me to do that again,' said Voldemort softly. 'Answer me! Imperio!'

'Just say no,' whispered Arabella, gripping Cedric's body very tightly. 'Say no…'

'I WON'T!' burst from Harry's mouth.

'You won't?' said Voldemort quietly, and the Death Eaters were not laughing now. 'You won't say no? Harry, obedience is a virtue I need to teach you before you die… Perhaps another little dose of pain?'

Voldemort raised his wand, but Harry flung himself sideways onto the ground. He rolled behind the marble headstone of Voldemort's father.

'We are not playing hide-and-seek, Harry,' said Voldemort as the Death Eaters laughed. 'You cannot hide from me. You know, Arabella has very nice skin. It would be a shame to see them cut away… Come out, Harry, and I won't lay a single finger on her… come out and play, then… it will be quick… it might even be painless…'

Voldemort looked at her with a twisted, cruel smile when he mentioned her skin being cut off. It made her skin crawl. Voldemort went closer towards the headstone, smiling all the way. Before he could stick his face around the headstone, Harry stood up, gripping his wand very tightly in his hand, thrust it out in front of him, and threw himself around the headstone, facing Voldemort.

Voldemort was ready. As Harry shouted, 'Expelliarmus!' Voldemort cried, 'Avada Kedavra!'

A jet of green light from Voldemort's wand collided with a jet of red light blasting from Harry's. They met in midair. A narrow beam of light connected the two wands, neither red nor green, but bright, deep gold.

And then – Arabella had to rub her eyes – Harry's feet lifted from the ground. Both their feets lifted from the ground, their wands still connected by the golden light. The glided away from the tombstone of Voldemort's father and then came to a rest a few tombstones over. Arabella still had a clear view of them; it was just a couple gravestones away from her. The Death Eaters were shouting. They were asking Voldemort of instructions; they were closing in, reforming the circle around Harry and Voldemort, some of them drawing their wands.

The golden light connecting Harry and Voldemort cracked, but their wands remained connected, a thousand more beams arched over Harry and Voldemort, crisscrossing all around them, until they were enclosed in a golden, dome-shaped web, a cage of light.

'Do nothing!' Voldemort shrieked to the Death Eaters, 'Do nothing unless I command you!' Voldemort shouted to the Death Eaters.

Then Arabella heard screams of pain coming from Voldemort's wand. A dense, smoky hand flew out of the tip of his wand and vanished… more shouts of pain… and then something much larger began to blossom from Voldemort's wand tip, a great, grayish something, that looked as though it were made of the solidest, densest smoke… it was a head… now a chest and arms… the chest of Cedric.

Arabella kept looking back and forth between the Cedric's lifeless body and his ghost. It stood up, looked up and down the golden light, and spoke.

'Hold on Harry,' it said.

The voice was distant and echoing. More screams of pain… and something emerged from its tip… the dense shadow of a second head… an old man came out of the wand just like Cedric had done… the man fell next to Cedric, and looked at Harry and Voldemort, and the golden dome, and the wands with mild surprise…

'He was a real wizard, then?' the old man said, his eyes on Voldemort. 'Killed me, that one did… You fight him, boy…'

But already another head was emerging… and this time it was a woman… she dropped to the ground and straightened up like the others, staring…

The shadow of Bertha Jorkins surveyed the battle before her with wide eyes.

'Don't let go, now!' she cried. 'Don't let him get you, Harry – don't let go!'

The three shadowy figures began to pace around the inner walls of the golden web, while the Death Eaters walked around the outside of it. And now another head was emerging from the tip of Voldemort's wand… The smoky shadow of a young woman with long hair fell to the ground, straightened up, and looked at Harry…

'You're father's coming…' she said quietly. 'He wants to see you… it will be all right… hold on…'

And he came… first his head, then his body… tall and untidy-haired like Harry. James Potter came out from Voldemort's wand, fell to the ground, and straightened like his wife. He walked close to Harry, looking down at him.

'Someone's coming now…' he said quietly with the same distant voices as the others. 'Just a few more moments…'

And another person emerged from the wand… first the head, then the chest, and the rest of the body… he had longish hair that reached just a little passed his ear, and a face with some wrinkles on them… he fell to the ground and straightened up like the rest of them… looking around, he seemed to have found something… he smiled towards Arabella…

'It's good to see you again, my dear,' he said softly, his voice distant.

Arabella nodded, not knowing who he was. He didn't look familiar, but there was something about him that she couldn't quite place…

'When the connection is broken,' said James Potter to Harry, 'we will linger for only moments… but we will give you time… you must get to the Portkey with Arabella, it will return you to Hogwarts… do you understand, Harry?'

'Yes,' gasped Harry.

'Arabella…' whispered Cedric towards her, 'take my body back, will you? Take my body back to my parents…'

'I will,' said Arabella, holding on to Cedric's body as tightly as she can.

'Do it now,' whispered James Potter, 'be ready to run… do it now…'

'NOW!' Harry yelled.

He pulled his wand upward, and the golden light broke. The dome vanished, but the shadowy figures of Voldemort's victims did not disappear – they were closing in upon Voldemort, shielding Harry from his gaze –

And Harry ran as he had never run in his life, knocking two stunned Death Eaters aside as he passed. He zigzagged behind two headstone, dodging curses and grave. Running as fast as he could towards Arabella and Cedric's body, no longer aware of the pain in his legs…

'Stun him!' Voldemort screamed.

Ten feet away from Arabella and Cedric, Harry dived behind a marble angle to avoid the jets of red light.

'Impedimenta!' he bellowed, pointing his wand wildly over his shoulder at the Death Eaters running at him.

There was no time to stop and look behind him. Harry jumped over the cup and grabbed on the Arabella's right arm that was stretched out. More jets of light flew past them as they held on to each other lightly…

'Accio!' Harry yelled, pointing his wand at the Triwizard Cup. It flew in the air and soared towards them. Harry caught it by the handle –

Arabella heard Voldemort's scream of fury at the same moment as she felt the jerk behind her navel, meaning that the Portkey had worked. They were going back…

**Thank you for reading! The mystery person will be somewhat important in the fifth book...**


	30. Veritaserum

**disclaimer: I don' own Harry Potter, just Arabella. Hope you like it!**

Veritaserum

Arabella felt herself slam flat into the ground, her face was pressed into the grass as her clung on to Cedric's body with her broken arm. Her eyes were closed while the Portkey transported them, but she opened them now. She turned her head towards Harry, who was facing her with his eyes closed.

There were voices everywhere, footsteps, screams…

Then a pair of hands seized Harry roughly and turned him over, and another did the same to her.

'Harry! Arabella!'

Dumbledore was crouching over Harry as Professor McGonagall did the same to Arabella.

Arabella held on to Harry's hand, but clutched Cedric's body very tightly.

'He's back,' Harry whispered to Dumbledore. 'He's back. Voldemort.'

'What's going on? What's happened?'

The face of Cornelius Fudge appeared over Harry. It looked white, appalled.

'My God – Diggory!' he whispered. 'Dumbledore – he's dead!'

The words were shouted – screeched – into the night –

'He's dead!'

'He's dead!'

'Cedric Diggory! Dead!'

'Arabella, let go of him,' she heard McGonagall's voice say, she tried to pry her from Cedric's limp body, but Arabella wouldn't let him go. Dumbledore moved closer towards her.

'Arabella,' said Dumbledore, 'you can't help him now. It's over. Let go.'

'He asked me to bring him back,' Arabella muttered. 'He asked me to bring him back to his parents…'

'That's right. Just let go… it's over now…'

Dumbledore bent down and raised Arabella from the ground, breaking her hold from Cedric's body. She fell down again due to the pain on her right ankle, and moved closer to Cedric's body.

'I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…' she whispered to him.

Dumbledore lifted Harry from the ground and set him on his feet. The crowd around them pushed, fighting to get closer, and Arabella swore she heard a dog barking –

'What's happened?'

'What's wrong with him?'

'Diggorys dead!'

'He'll need to go to the hospital wing!' Fudge was saying loudly. 'He's ill, he's injured – Dumbledore, Diggory's parents, they're here, they're in the stands…'

'I'll take Harry, Dumbledore, I'll take him -'

'No, I would prefer-'

'Dumbledore, Amos Diggorys running…he's coming over…Don't you think you should tell him - before he sees -?'

'Harry, stay here -'

Girls were screaming, sobbing hysterically… Arabella turned just in time to see Mad-Eye pulled Harry away from the scene and towards the castle. Dumbledore was looking on after them.

'Let me through! Let me through! That's my son!' yelled a voice from the stands. Arabella looked and saw Amos Diggory and his wife running towards them. McGonagall managed to get her away before Mr and Mrs Diggory fell to their knees, sobbing over their son's body.

Mrs Diggory was hugging Cedric with such force while Mr Diggory was screaming in agony, holding onto Dumbledore.

'Dumbledore,' whispered Arabella. 'Dumbledore,' she said a bit more loudly, but the Diggory's screams of pain drowned her voice out. Arabella managed to get free of McGonagall's grasp and crawled towards Dumbledore, yanking him away from Mr Diggory.

'Barty Crouch Jr. is alive,' she said in a hoarse voice. Dumbledore was not as surprised as she expected. 'He's Mad-Eye. He was using Polyjuice Potion the whole time. The Triwizard Cup was a Portkey. Voldemort's alive. You have to believe me.'

'I do, Arabella,' he said gravely. 'I do. Minerva, if you could get Severus, I need you both. Arabella, if you could hold on to my arm, you'll need to hear this.'

'Albus,' said McGonagall, coming closer towards them as Snape did the same, 'Remus is here. He would want to see her. Look at the state she's in! She's been through enough!'

'He would,' said Dumbledore, nodding his head, 'but there's something she needs to hear. Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery. She needs to know who has put her through the ordeal tonight, and why. If you help me here.'

The thin line of McGonagall's face was twitching as though she was about to cry, but nodded. Arabella held onto Dumbledore's arm and he lifted her on her feet, and then held on to McGonagall with her right arm, not putting any weight on her right foot.

'What's broken, Arabella?' said Dumbledore as the four of them started to walk towards the castle. Arabella tried to block out the screams behind them.

'Left arm, right ankle,' gasped Arabella, as she tried to walk properly.

Dumbledore nodded, and said, 'we will get you to the infirmary, but we need to do something first.'

They walked to the castle and up the stair silently. Arabella tried her best to ignore the pain shooting up her body from her ankle. They reached Mad-Eye's office and Dumbledore motioned for her to stay quiet. He drew out his wand and pointed it at the door.

'Stupefy!'

There was a blinding of red light, and the door of Mad-Eye's office blasted open –

Mad-Eye was thrown backward onto the office. Dumbledore stepped into the office, placed a foot underneath Mad-Eye's unconscious body, and kicked him over onto his back, so that his face was visible. Snape followed him, looking into the Foe-Glass, where his own face was still visible, glaring into the room. Professor McGonagall walked in with Arabella and led her to an empty chair, and turned towards Harry.

'Come now, Potter,' she whispered, motioning him towards her. 'Come here.'

'Moody,' Harry said, still in a complete state of disbelief. 'How can it have been Moody?'

'This is not Alastor Moody,' said Dumbledore quietly. 'You have never known Alastor Moody. The real moody would not have removed you from my sight after what happened tonight. The moment he took you, I knew – and I followed.'

Dumbledore bent down over Mad-Eye's limp form and put a hand inside his robes. He pulled on Mad-Eye's hip flask and a set of keys on a ring. Then he turned to McGonagall and Snape.

'Severus, please fetch me the strongest Truth Potion you possess, and then go down to the kitchens and bring up the house-elf called Winky. Minerva, kindly go back to the stands and fetch Remus and the large black dog with him. Take them both up to my office, tell them I will be there shortly, and then come back here.'

Both turned at once and left the office. Dumbledore walked over to the truck with seven locks, fitted the first key in the lock, and opened it. Arabella couldn't see what was in it. After six keys, Dumbledore placed the seventh key in the seventh lock, threw open the lid, and Harry let out a cry of amazement.

'What? What is it?' said Arabella, almost dreading the answer.

'It's Moody! The real Moody!' said Harry, stunned.

Dumbledore climbed into the truck, lowered himself, and fell lightly onto the floor beside the sleeping Moody. He bent over him.

'Stunned – controlled by the Imperius Curse – very weak,' he said. 'Of course, they would have needed to keep him alive. Harry, throw down the imposter's cloak – he's freezing. Madam Pomfrey will need to see him, but he seems in no immediate danger.'

Harry did as he was told. Dumbledore covered Mad-Eye in the cloak, tucked it around him, and clambered out of the trunk again. Then he picked up the hip flask that stood upon the desk, unscrewed it, and turned it over. A thick liquid splattered onto the office floor.

'You were right, Arabella,' said Dumbledore. 'Polyjuice Potion. The simplicity of it, and the brilliance. For Moody never does drink except for his hip flask, he's well known for it. The imposter needed, of course, to keep the real Moody close by, so that he could continue making the potion. You see his hair…' Dumbledore looked down on the Mad-Eye in the trunk. 'The imposter has been cutting it off all year, see where it is uneven? But, I think, in the excitement of tonight, our fake Moody might have forgotten to take it as frequently as he should have done… on the hour… every hour… We shall see.'

Dumbledore went to the desk and found something that seemed familiar to Arabella…

'My wand!' she said, in a husky voice.

Dumbledore turned towards her with a curious expression.

'Interesting wand,' he said. 'May I ask, what is it?'

'Walnut, dragon heartstring, 13 ½ inches,' said Arabella, remembering what Ollivander told her.

'I believe this is close to –'

'Yes, it is,' said Arabella, sighing and closing her eyes. 'Can I please have it back now?'

'Yes, yes, sorry,' said Dumbledore, and he handed her wand back to her, which she put in the pocket inside her sweater. Dumbledore then pulled out the chair at the desk and sat down upon it, eyes fixed upon the unconscious Mad-Eye on the floor. Harry went and stood beside Arabella, and stared at the Mad-Eye on the ground too. Minutes passed in silence…

Then, before Arabella's very eyes, the face of Mad-Eye began to change into Barty Crouch Jr. She wanted to get up and strangle him, but the thing stopping her was her leg and arm.

There were hurried footsteps outside in the corridor. Snape had returned with Winky at his heels. McGonagall was right behind him.

'Crouch!' Snape said, stopping dead in the doorway. 'Barty Crouch!'

'Good heavens!' said McGonagall, stopping dead and staring down at the man on the floor.

Filthy, disheveled, Winky peered around Snape's legs. Her mouth opened wide and she let out a piercing shriek.

'Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you doing here?'

She flung herself forward onto the young man's chest.

'You is killed him! You is killed him! You is killed Master's son!'

'He is simply Stunned, Winky,' said Dumbledore. 'Step aside, please. Severus, you have the potion?'

Snape handed Dumbledore a small glass of Veritaserum. Dumbledore got up, bent over Crouch on the floor, and pulled him into a sitting position against the walled. Winky remained on her knees, trembling, her hands over her face. Dumbledore forced Crouch's mouth open and poured three drops inside it. Then he pointed his wand at Crouch's chest and said, 'Rennervate!'

Crouch opened his eyes, gazed unfocused.

Dumbledore knelt before him, so that their faces were level.

'Can you hear me?' Dumbledore asked quietly.

'Yes,' muttered Crouch, his eyes flickering a bit.

'I would like you to tell us,' said Dumbledore softly, 'how you came to be here. How did you escape from Azkaban?'

Crouch took a deep, shuddering breath, then began to speak in a flat, expressionless voice.

'My mother saved me. She knew she was dying. She persuaded my father to rescue me as a last favor to her. He loved her as he had never loved me. He agreed. They came to visit me. They gave me a draft of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my mother's hairs. She took a draft of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my hairs. We took on each other's appearance.'

Winky was shaking her head, trembling.

'Say no more. Master Barty, say no more, you is getting your father into trouble!'

But Crouch took another deep breath and continued in the same flat voice.

'The dementors are blind. They sensed one healthy, one dying person entering Azkaban. They sensed one healthy, one dying person leaving it. My father smuggled me out, disguised as my mother, in case any prisoners were watching through their doors.

'My mother died a short while afterward in Azkaban. She was careful to drink Polyjuice Potion until the end. She was buried under my name and bearing my appearance. Everyone believed her to be me.'

Crouch's eyelids flickered.

'And what did your father do with you, when he had got you home?' said Dumbledore quietly.

'Staged my mother's death. A quiet, private funeral. That grave is empty. The house-elf nursed me back to health. Then I had to be concealed. I had to be controlled. My father had to use a number of spells to subdue me. When I had recovered my strength, I thought only of finding my master…of returning to his service.'

'How did your father subdue you?' said Dumbledore.

'The Imperius Curse,' Crouch said. 'I was under my father's control. I was forced to wear an Invisibility Cloak day and night. I was always with the house-elf. She was my keeper and caretaker. She pitied me. She persuaded my father to give me occasional treats. Rewards for my good behavior.'

'Master Barty, Master Barty,' sobbed Winky through her hands. 'You isn't ought to tell them, we is getting in trouble…'

'Did anybody ever discover that you were still alive?' said Dumbledore softly. 'Did anyone know except your father and the house-elf?'

'Yes,' said Crouch, his eyelids flickering again. 'A witch in my father's office. Bertha Jorkins. She came to the house with papers for my father's signature. He was not at home. Winky showed her inside and returned to the kitchen, to me. But Bertha Jorkins heard Winky talking to me. She came to investigate. She heard enough to guess who was hiding under the Invisibility Cloak. My father arrived home. She confronted him. He put a very powerful Memory Charm on her to make her forget what she'd found out. Too powerful. He said it damaged her memory permanently.'

'Why is she coming to nose into my masters private business?' sobbed Winky. 'Why isn't she leaving us be?'

'Tell me about the Quidditch World Cup,' said Dumbledore.

'Winky talked my father into it,' said Crouch, still in the same monotonous voice. 'She spent months persuading him. I had not left the house for years. I had loved Quidditch. 'Let him go,' she said. 'He will be in his Invisibility Cloak. He can watch. Let him smell fresh air for once.' She said my mother would have wanted it. She told my father that my mother had died to give me freedom. She had not saved me for a life of imprisonment. He agreed in the end.

'It was carefully planned. My father led me and Winky up to the Top Box early in the day. Winky was to say that she was saving a seat for my father. I was to sit there, invisible. When everyone had left the box, we would emerge. Winky would appear to be alone. Nobody would ever know.

'But Winky didn't know that I was growing stronger. I was starting to fight my father's Imperius Curse. There were times when I was almost myself again. There were brief periods when I seemed outside his control. It happened, there, in the Top Box. It was like waking from a deep sleep. I found myself out in public, in the middle of the match, and I saw, in front of me, a wand sticking out of a boy's pocket. I had not been allowed a wand since before Azkaban. I stole it. Winky didn't know. Winky is frightened of heights. She had her face hidden.'

'Master Barty, you bad boy!' whispered Winky, tears trickling between her fingers.

'So you took the wand,' said Dumbledore, 'and what did you do with it?'

'We went back to the tent,' said Crouch. 'Then we heard them. We heard the Death Eaters. The ones who had never been to Azkaban. The ones who had never suffered for my master. They had turned their backs on him. They were not enslaved, as I was. They were free to seek him, but they did not. They were merely making sport of Muggles. The sound of their voices awoke me. My mind was clearer than it had been in years. I was angry. I had the wand. I wanted to attack them for their disloyalty to my master. My father had left the tent; he had gone to free the Muggles. Winky was afraid to see me so angry. She used her own brand of magic to bind me to her. She pulled me from the tent, pulled me into the forest, away from the Death Eaters. I tried to hold her back. I wanted to return to the campsite. I wanted to show those Death Eaters what loyalty to the Dark Lord meant, and to punish them for their lack of it. I used the stolen wand to cast the Dark Mark into the sky.

'Ministry wizards arrived. They shot Stunning Spells everywhere. One of the spells came through the trees where Winky and I stood. The bond connecting us was broken. We were both Stunned.

'When Winky was discovered, my father knew I must be nearby. He searched the bushes where she had been found and felt me lying there. He waited until the other Ministry members had left the forest. He put me back under the Imperius Curse and took me home. He dismissed Winky. She had failed him. She had let me acquire a wand. She had almost let me escape.'

Winky let out a wail of despair.

'Now it was just Father and I, alone in the house. And then…and then…'

Crouch's head rolled on his neck, and an insane grin spread across his face.

'My master came for me. He arrived at our house late one night in the arms of his servant Wormtail. My master had found out that I was still alive. He had captured Bertha Jorkins in Albania. He had tortured her. She told him a great deal. She told him about the Triwizard Tournament. She told him the old Auror, Moody, was going to teach at Hogwarts. He tortured her until he broke through the Memory Charm my father had placed upon her. She told him I had escaped from Azkaban. She told him my father kept me imprisoned to prevent me from seeking my master. And so my master knew that I was still his faithful servant - perhaps the most faithful of all. My master conceived a plan, based upon the information Bertha had given him. He needed me. He arrived at our house near midnight. My father answered the door.'

The smile spread wider over Crouch's face, as though recalling the sweetest memory of his life. Winky's petrified brown eyes were visible through her fingers. She seemed too appalled to speak.

'It was very quick. My father was placed under the Imperius Curse by my master. Now my father was the one imprisoned, controlled. My master forced him to go about his business as usual, to act as though nothing was wrong. And I was released. I awoke. I was myself again, alive as I hadn't been in years.'

'And what did Lord Voldemort ask you to do?' said Dumbledore.

'He asked me whether or not I was ready to risk everything for him. It was my dream, my greatest ambition, to serve him, to prove myself to him. He told me he needed a place a faithful servant at Hogwarts. As servant that would get close to Arabella Black. A servant who would guide Harry Potter through the Triwizard Tournament without appearing to do so. A servant to watch over them. To ensure Arabella Black would be at the grave, and that Harry Potter would reach the Triwizard Cup. Turn the cup into a Portkey, which would take the first person to touch it to my master. But first –'

'You needed Alastor Moody,' said Dumbledore. His blue eyes were blazing, though his voice remained calm.

'Wormtail and I did it. We had prepared the Polyjuice Potion beforehand. We journeyed to his house. Moody put up a struggle. There was a commotion. We managed to subdue him just in time. Forced him into a compartment of his own magical trunk. Took some of his hair and added it to the potion. I drank it; I became Moody's double. I took his leg and his eye. I was ready to face Arthur Weasley when he arrived to sort out the Muggles who had heard a disturbance. I made the dustbins move around the yard. I told Arthur Weasley I had heard intruders in my yard, who had set off the dustbins. Then I packed up Moody's clothes and Dark detectors, put them in the trunk with Moody, and set off for Hogwarts. I kept him alive, under the Imperius Curse. I wanted to be able to question him. To find out about his past, learn his habits, so that I could fool even Dumbledore. I also needed his hair to make the Polyjuice Potion. The other ingredients were easy. I stole boomslang skin from the dungeons. When the Potions master found me in his office, I said I was under orders to search it.'

'And what became of Wormtail after you attacked Moody?' said Dumbledore.

'Wormtail returned to care for my master, in my father's house, and to keep watch over my father.'

'But your father escaped,' said Dumbledore.

'Yes. After a while he began to fight the Imperius Curse just as I had done. There were periods when he knew what was happening. My master decided it was no longer safe for my father to leave the house. He forced him to send letters to the Ministry instead. He made him write and say he was ill. But Wormtail neglected his duty. He was not watchful enough. My father escaped. My master guessed that he was heading for Hogwarts. My father was going to tell Dumbledore everything, to confess. He was going to admit that he had smuggled me from Azkaban.

'My master sent me word of my father's escape. He told me to stop him at all costs. So I waited and watched. I used the map I had taken from Harry Potter. The map that had almost ruined everything.'

'Map?' said Dumbledore quickly. 'What map is this?'

'Potter's map of Hogwarts. Potter saw me on it. Potter saw me stealing more ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion from Snape's office one night. He thought I was my father. We have the same first name. I took the map from Potter that night. I told him my father hated Dark wizards. Potter believed my father was after Snape.

'For a week I waited for my father to arrive at Hogwarts. At last, one evening, the map showed my father entering the grounds. I pulled on my Invisibility Cloak and went down to meet him. He was walking around the edge of the forest. Then Potter came, and Krum. I waited. I could not hurt Potter; my master needed him. Potter ran to get Dumbledore. I Stunned Krum. I killed my father.'

'Noooo!' wailed Winky. 'Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you saying?'

'You killed your father,' Dumbledore said, in the same soft voice. 'What did you do with the body?'

'Carried it into the forest. Covered it with the Invisibility Cloak. I had the map with me. I watched Potter run into the castle. He met Snape. Dumbledore joined them. I watched Potter bringing Dumbledore out of the castle. I walked back out of the forest, doubled around behind them, went to meet them. I told Dumbledore Snape had told me where to come.

'Dumbledore told me to go and look for my father. I went back to my father's body. Watched the map. When everyone was gone, I Transfigured my father's body. He became a bone…I buried it, while wearing the Invisibility Cloak, in the freshly dug earth in front of Hagrid's cabin.'

'And tonight, with Arabella?' asked Dumbledore.

'I saw her in the morning and told her that Dumbledore and McGonagall needed to see her about the third task. Foolish girl, she believed me. I stunned her when we reached my office, broke her arm and her ankle, sweet revenge. Waited until lunch when I offered to carry the Triwizard Cup into the maze and left with both the Cup and the girl. My master has a very long memory, he does not forget traitors. He never forgot Kassandra Anastas. He was going to punish Arabella Black for her mother's betrayal, but she would have been a great asset if she joined us. If she said yes, she would have joined us, but if she said no, my master would have given the girl to Bellatrix Lestrange for her loyalty towards him all these years.

'My master's plan worked. He is returned to power and I willed be honored by him beyond the dreams of wizards.'

The insane smile lit his features once more, and his head drooped onto his shoulders as Winky wailed and sobbed at this side.

**Thank you for reading!**


	31. The Parting of Ways

The Parting of Ways

Dumbledore stood up. He stared down at Crouch for a moment with disgust on his face. Then he raised his wand once more and ropes flew out of it, ropes that twisted themselves around Crouch, binding him tightly. He turned to Professor McGonagall.

'Minerva, could I ask you to stand guard here while I take Harry and Arabella upstairs?'

'Of course,' said Professor McGonagall. She looked slightly nauseous, as though she had just watched someone being sick. However, when she drew out her wand and pointed it at Crouch, her hand was quite steady.

'Severus' - Dumbledore turned to Snape - 'please tell Madam Pomfrey to come down here; we need to get Alastor Moody into the hospital wing. Then go down into the grounds, find Cornelius Fudge, and bring him up to this office. He will undoubtedly want to question Crouch himself. Tell him I will be in the hospital wing in half an hour's time if he needs me.'

Snape nodded silently and swept out of the room.

'Harry? Arabella?' Dumbledore said gently.

Harry got up and swayed again. Dumbledore gripped Arabella's good arm, helping her out into the dark corridor with Harry beside her.

'I want the two of you to come up to my office,' Dumbledore said quietly. 'Remus and Sirius are waiting for us there.'

Arabella and Harry nodded. Arabella didn't feel any pain in her ankle or her arm. She felt numb, and she was happy for the numbness. She didn't want to think about any of it. Crouch, confessing everything… Voldemort, torturing Harry, torturing her… Cedric… dead… Cedric, asking her to return his body back to his parents…

They reached the stone gargoyle. Dumbledore gave the password, it sprang aside, and they went up the moving spiral staircase to the oak door.

Dumbledore pushed it open. Remus and Sirius were standing there. Their faces were white, and in one swift moment, they crossed the room. Remus helped Arabella from Dumbledore. She hugged him close to her, taking in everything she could.

'Harry, Arabella – are you all right? I knew it – I knew something like this – what happened?' said Sirius in one big rush.

Remus and Sirius helped them both into chairs in front of the desk. Sirius stood between Arabella and Harry, while Remus held on to Arabella's hand tightly.

'What happened?' asked Remus, urgently.

Dumbledore began to tell them everything Crouch had said. Arabella was only half listening. She just wanted to be alone. Every bone in her was aching. She wanted nothing more than for everyone to disappear, leaving her alone, not feeling anything… _that would be nice_ thought Arabella.

Dumbledore stopped talking. He sat down opposite Arabella and Harry, behind his desk. He was looking at the both of them. Arabella avoided his eyes, looking at her broken ankle. Dumbledore was going to question them. He was going to make them relive everything.

'I need to know what happened in the place the both of you were,' said Dumbledore. 'I need to know what happened after you touched the Portkey, Harry. And I need to know what happened after Barty Crouch kidnapped you, Arabella.'

'We can leave that till morning, can't we, Dumbledore?' said Sirius harshly. He put both his hands on Harry and Arabella's shoulders. 'Let them sleep. Let them rest.'

Arabella felt a rush of gratitude towards Sirius, but Dumbledore took no notice of Sirius's words. He leaned forward, and Arabella raised her head and looked him in the eyes. Harry did the same.

'If I thought I could help you both,' Dumbledore said gently, 'by putting you into an enchanted sleep and allowing you to postpone the moment when you would have to think about what has happened tonight, I would do it. But I know better. Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it. You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected out of the two you. I ask you to demonstrate your courage one more time. I ask you to tell us what happened.'

Harry took a deep breath and held on to Arabella's hand, and she gripped it just as tight, even though it was her broken arm. He told them everything. The potion that revived Voldemort; the Death Eaters Apparating around them; everything Voldemort said to them; Cedric's body, lying on the ground beside the cup.

When Harry told of Wormtail piercing his arm with the dagger, however, Sirius let out a vehement exclamation, and Remus gripped Arabella's hand so tight, her fingers started to turn blue, but it didn't bother her. Dumbledore stood up and walked around the desk and told Harry to stretch out his arm.

Harry showed them the place where his robes were torn and the cut beneath them.

'He said my blood would make him stronger than if he'd used someone else's,' Harry told Dumbledore. 'He said the protection my - my mother left in me - he'd have it too. And he was right - he could touch me without hurting himself, he touched my face.'

Dumbledore returned to his seat behind the desk and asked them to continue.

This time, Arabella took over the story. She told them about what Crouch told her before everything happened; Voldemort emerging from the cauldron; Voldemort's speech to the Death Eater; Voldemort's request to Arabella, and how he never forgot Kassandra, and tortured her. Sirius and Remus opened their mouths to say something once or twice, but Dumbledore stopped them. She was grateful for that. It was easier to just keep on going. Harry just kept on gripping her hand. Then she told them about Voldemort untying Harry, returning his wand to him, and prepared to duel.

Then she told them about the golden light that connected Harry and Voldemort's wand. She told them about Cedric, emerging, the old man, Bertha Jorkins, Lily Potter, James Potter, and the mysterious man…

She was glad when Sirius broke the silence that followed.

'The wands connected?' he said, looking between her and Dumbledore. 'Why?'

'Priori Incantatem,' muttered Dumbledore.

'The Reverse Spell effect?' said Remus sharply.

'Exactly,' said Dumbledore. 'Harry's wand and Voldemorts wand share cores. Each of them contains a feather from the tail of the same phoenix. This phoenix, in fact,' he added, and he pointed at the scarlet-and-gold bird, beside his desk.

'My wand's feather came from Fawkes?' Harry said, amazed.

'Yes,' said Dumbledore. 'Mr. Ollivander wrote to tell me you had bought the second wand, the moment you left his shop four years ago.'

'So what happens when a wand meets its brother?' said Remus.

'They will not work properly against each other,' said Dumbledore. 'If, however, the owners of the wands force the wands to do battle…a very rare effect will take place. One of the wands will force the other to regurgitate spells it has performed - in reverse. The most recent first…and then those which preceded it…'

He looked interrogatively at Harry, and Harry nodded.

'Which means,' said Dumbledore slowly, his eyes upon Harry's face, 'that some form of Cedric must have reappeared.'

Harry nodded again.

'Diggory came back to life?' said Sirius sharply.

'No spell can reawaken the dead,' said Dumbledore heavily. 'All that would have happened is a kind of reverse echo. A shadow of the living Cedric would have emerged from the wand…am I correct?'

'He spoke to me,' said Arabella, shaking badly. 'Th – the ghost of Cedric spoke. He wanted me to bring his body back – back to his parents.'

'An echo,' said Dumbledore, 'which retained Cedric's appearance and character. I am guessing other such forms appeared…less recent victims of Voldemort's wand…'

'An old man,' said Arabella, a lump forming in her throat. 'Berth Jorkins, Lily and James Potter and another man…'

Harry didn't say anything except grip Arabella's hand tighter when she mentioned his parents.

'Isaak,' said Dumbledore quietly.

Arabella shrugged, not knowing who he was, and said, 'He said that it was good to see me again, and called me dear.'

Sirius's grip on Arabella's shoulder tightened, as well as Remus's grip on her other hand.

'The last murders the wand performed,' said Dumbledore, nodding. 'In reverse order. More would have appeared, of course, had you maintained the connection. Very well, these echoes, these shadows…what did they do?'

Harry described how the figure emerged from the wand, how Voldemort seemed to fear them, how the shadow of Harry's mother had told him what to do, how Cedric asked Arabella to bring his body back.

At this point Harry could not continue. Sirius and Remus had their face in their hands, trying not to show their weakened faces to them, trying to be strong in front of them.

'I will say it again,' said Dumbledore. 'You both have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of the two of you tonight. You have shown bravery equal to those who died fighting Voldemort at the height of his powers. You have shouldered a grown wizard's burden and found yourself equal to it - and you both have now given us all that we have a right to expect. The two of you will come with me to the hospital wing. I do not want you returning to the dormitory tonight. A Sleeping Potion, and some peace…Sirius, Remus, would you like to stay with them?'

Sirius nodded and stood up, transforming into the great black dog. Remus helped Arabella up, but she couldn't walk properly as her ankle was now swollen very badly. He carried her in his arms, following Dumbledore and Harry out of the office with Sirius behind them to the hospital wing.

'Who's Isaak, Remus?' mumbled Arabella.

'Not now, Ara,' said Remus, looking quite miserable. 'I'll tell you later – We'll tell you later.'

'Promise?' mumbled Arabella, looking at Sirius behind them.

'Promise,' said Remus.

When Dumbledore pushed open the door Arabella saw Mrs Weasley, Bill, Ron, and Hermione grouped around a harassed-looking Madam Pomfrey. All of them whipped around as Dumbledore, Harry, Arabella, Remus and the black dog entered. Mrs Weasley let out a kind of muffled scream, and started to hurry towards them, but Dumbledore moved in between them.

'Molly,' he said, holding up a hand, 'please listen to me for a moment. Harry and Arabella have both been through a terrible ordeal tonight. They just had to relive them for me. What they need now is sleep, and peace and quiet. You all may stay with them, but I do not want you questioning them until they are ready to answer, and certainly not this evening.'

Mrs. Weasley nodded. She was very white. She rounded on Ron, Hermione, and Bill as though they were being noisy, and hissed, 'Did you hear? They need quiet!'

'Headmaster,' said Madam Pomfrey, staring at the great black dog that was Sirius, 'may I ask what -?'

'This dog will be remaining with them for a while,' said Dumbledore simply. 'I assure you, he is extremely well trained.'

Arabella felt a sense of gratitude to Dumbledore for asking the others not to question them, and for allowing Sirius to stay with them.

'I will be back to see you both as soon as I have met with Fudge,' said Dumbledore. 'I would like the two of you to remain here tomorrow until I have spoken to the school.' He left.

Madam Pomfrey led them both to two beds that were very close together at the end of the infirmary. She handed them some pyjamas and pulled screens around them. Mrs Weasley helped Arabella into them, and got into bed. Ron, Hermione, Bill, Mrs Weasley, Remus and the black dog sat around the two of them as Madam Pomfrey looked over Arabella's broken ankle and arm, put heavy bandages on them and left to her office.

Remus was sitting beside Arabella and his eyes were filled with tears. Sirius was licking her hand, as though trying to reassure her that everything was going to be alright. Mrs Weasley was busy fussing over Harry's bed covers, but looked as though she was about to burst into tears.

Madam Pomfrey returned holding three small bottles of potions and two goblets.

'You need to drink this, Arabella,' she said, holding out a little bottle of yellow liquid, 'it will help mend some of your bones. And then the two of you will need to drink up all of this' – holding up the two goblets –'it's a potion for dreamless sleep.'

Arabella gulped down the yellow liquid and took two mouthfuls from the goblet of the dreamless potion. At once, she felt herself becoming very drowsy. Before she could finish the potion, Remus grabbed the goblet and put it on the bed side table, gave her a kiss on her forehead and tucked her in.

'Who's Arry?' mumbled Arabella. The room was becoming very blurry around her, and her eyes were drooping.

'Go to sleep, Ara,' said Remus, running his hands through her hair to get out all the tangles.

'Goodnight, Moony,' mumbled Arabella. She closed her eyes, and let her exhaustion carry her off to sleep.

* * *

Arabella woke up, so very sleepy, but unable to sleep again because of the whispering going around her. She opened her eyes.

'They'll wake them if they don't shut up!'

'What are they shouting about? Nothing else can have happened, can it?'

She could see Mrs Weasley and Bill on their feets.

'That's Fudge's voice,' whispered Mrs Weasley. 'And that's Minerva McGonagall's, isn't it? But what are they arguing about?'

Arabella could hear it too; people shouting and running toward the hospital wing.

'Regrettable, but all the same, Minerva -' Cornelius Fudge was saying loudly.

'You should never have brought it inside the castle!' yelled Professor McGonagall. 'When Dumbledore finds out -'

Arabella heard the hospital door burst open. Bill pulled back the screen as Arabella and Harry sat up, unnoticed by any of the people around their beds.

Fudge came striding up the ward. Professors McGonagall and Snape were at his heels.

'Where's Dumbledore?' Fudge demanded of Mrs. Weasley.

'He's not here,' said Mrs. Weasley angrily. 'This is a hospital wing. Minister, don't you think you'd do better to -'

But the door opened, and Dumbledore came sweeping up the ward.

'What has happened?' said Dumbledore sharply, looking from Fudge to Professor McGonagall. 'Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I'm surprised at you - I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch -'

'There is no need to stand guard over him anymore, Dumbledore!' she shrieked. 'The Minister has seen to that!'

Arabella had never seen Professor McGonagall lose control like this. There were angry blotches of colour in her cheeks, and a hand balled into fists; she was trembling with fury –

'When we told Mr. Fudge that we had caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's events,' said Snape, in a low voice. 'He insisted on summoning a dementor to accompany him into the castle. He brought it up to the office where Barty Crouch -'

'I told him you would not agree, Dumbledore!' McGonagall fumed. 'I told him you would never allow dementors to set foot inside the castle, but -'

'My dear woman!' roared Fudge, 'as Minister of Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous -'

But Professor McGonagall's voice drowned Fudge's.

'The moment that - that thing entered the room,' she screamed, pointing at Fudge, trembling all over, 'it swooped down on Crouch and - and -'

Arabella felt a chill go through her spine as Professor McGonagall struggled to find the words to describe what had happened. There was no point in finishing her sentence. Everyone knew what the Dementor had done; it was something worse than death.

'By all accounts, he is no loss!' blustered Fudge. 'It seems he has been responsible for several deaths'.'

'But he cannot now give testimony, Cornelius,' said Dumbledore. He was staring hard at Fudge, as though seeing him plainly for the first time. 'He cannot give evidence about why he killed those people.'

'Why he killed them? Well, that's no mystery, is it?' blustered Fudge. 'He was a raving lunatic! From what Minerva and Severus have told me, he seems to have thought he was doing it all on You-Know-Who's instructions!'

'Lord Voldemort was giving him instructions, Cornelius,' Dumbledore said. 'Those people's deaths were mere by-products of a plan to restore Voldemort to full strength again. The plan succeeded. Voldemort has been restored to his body.'

Fudge looked as though someone had just swung a heavy weight into his face. Dazed and blinking, he stared back at Dumbledore as if he couldn't quite believe what he had just heard. He began to sputter, still goggling at Dumbledore.

'You-Know-Who…returned? Preposterous. Come now, Dumbledore…'

'As Minerva and Severus have doubtless told you,' said Dumbledore, 'we heard Barty Crouch confess. Under the influence of Veritaserum, he told us how he was smuggled out of Azkaban, and how Voldemort - learning of his continued existence from Bertha Jorkins - went to free him from his father and used him to capture Harry and Arabella. The plan worked, I tell you. Crouch has helped Voldemort to return.'

'See here, Dumbledore,' said Fudge, and Arabella was astonished to see a slight smile dawning on his face, 'you - you can't seriously believe that You-Know-Who's back? Come now, come now…certainly, Crouch may have believed himself to be acting upon You-Know-Who's orders - but to take the word of a lunatic like that, Dumbledore…'

'Barty Crouch kidnapped Arabella that morning and when Harry touched the Triwizard Cup tonight, he was transported straight to Voldemort,' said Dumbledore steadily. 'They witnessed Lord Voldemort's rebirth. I will explain it all to you if you will step up to my office.'

Dumbledore glanced around at Arabella and Harry, and saw that they were awake, but shook his head, and said, 'I am afraid I cannot permit you to question them tonight.'

Fudge's curious smile lingered. He too glanced at Arabella and Harry, then turned back at Dumbledore, and said, 'You are – er – prepared to take Harry and Black's word on this, are you, Dumbledore?'

There was a moment of silence that was broken by Sirius's growling. His hackles were raised and he was baring his teeth at Fudge.

'Certainly, I believe Harry and Arabella,' said Dumbledore. His eyes were blazing now. 'I heard Crouch's confession and I heard Harry and Arabella's account of what happened after he touched the cup and after she was kidnapped. The two stories make sense; they explain everything that had happened since Bertha Jorkins disappeared last summer.'

Fudge still had that strange smile on his face. Once again, he glanced at Arabella and Harry before answering.

'You are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort had returned, on the word of a lunatic murdered, a girl that is related to Sirius Black, and a boy who… well…'

'You've been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr. Fudge,' said Harry quietly.

Ron, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Remus and Sirius all jumped. None of them had realized that Harry and Arabella were awake.

Fudge reddened slightly, but a defiant and obstinate look came over his face.

'And if I have?' he said, looking at Dumbledore. 'If I have discovered that you've been keeping certain facts about the boy very quiet? A Parselmouth, eh? And having funny turns all over the place -'

'I assume that you are referring to the pains Harry has been experiencing in his scar?' said Dumbledore coolly.

'You admit that he has been having these pains, then?' said Fudge quickly. 'Headaches? Nightmares? Possibly - hallucinations?'

'Listen to me, Cornelius,' said Dumbledore, taking a step toward Fudge. 'Harry is as sane as you or I. That scar upon his forehead has not addled his brains. I believe it hurts him when Lord Voldemort is close by, or feeling particularly murderous.'

Fudge had taken half a step back from Dumbledore, but he looked no less stubborn.

'You'll forgive me, Dumbledore, but I've never heard of a curse scar acting as an alarm bell before…'

'Look, we saw Voldemort come back!' Arabella shouted. She tried to get out of bed, but Remus forced her back. 'We saw the Death Eaters! We can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy -'

Snape made a sudden movement, but as Arabella looked at him, Snape's eyes flew back to Fudge.

'Malfoy was cleared!' said Fudge, visibly affronted. 'A very old family - donations to excellent causes -'

'Macnair!' said Arabella.

'Also cleared! Now working for the Ministry!'

'Avery – Nott – Crabbe – Goyle –'

'You are merely repeating the names of those who were acquitted of being Death Eater thirteen years ago!' said Fudge angrily. 'You could have found those names –'

'Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater!' said Arabella, her face turning red.

' – in old reports of the trial!' said Fudge, raising his voice to drown out Arabella's. 'For heaven's sake, Dumbledore – the girl was full of some crackpot story at the end of last year too -'

'You fool!' Professor McGonagall cried. 'Cedric Diggory! Mr Crouch! These deaths were not the random work of a lunatic!'

'I see no evidence to the contrary!' shouted Fudge, now matching her anger, his face purpling. 'It seems to me that you are all determined to start a panic that will destabilize everything we have worked for these last thirteen years!'

Arabella couldn't believe what she was hearing. _What an idiot!_ She thought _He's going to be the death of us all!_

'Voldemort has returned,' Dumbledore repeated. 'If you accept that fact straightaway Fudge, and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to save the situation. The first and most essential step is to remove Azkaban from the control of the dementors -'

'Preposterous!' shouted Fudge again. 'Remove the dementors? I'd be kicked out of office for suggesting it! Half of us only feel safe in our beds at night because we know the dementors are standing guard at Azkaban!'

'The rest of us sleep less soundly in our beds, Cornelius, knowing that you have put Lord Voldemort's most dangerous supporters in the care of creatures who will join him the instant he asks them!' said Dumbledore. 'They will not remain loyal to you, Fudge! Voldemort can offer them much more scope for their powers and their pleasures than you can! With the dementors behind him, and his old supporters returned to him, you will be hard-pressed to stop him regaining the sort of power he had thirteen years ago!'

Fudge was opening and closing his mouth as though no words could express his outrage.

'The second step you must take - and at once,' Dumbledore pressed on, 'is to send envoys to the giants.'

'Envoys to the giants?' Fudge shrieked, finding his tongue again. 'What madness is this?'

'Extend them the hand of friendship, now, before it is too late,' said Dumbledore, 'or Voldemort will persuade them, as he did before, that he alone among wizards will give them their rights and their freedom!'

'You - you cannot be serious!' Fudge gasped, shaking his head and retreating further from Dumbledore. 'If the magical community got wind that I had approached the giants- people hate them, Dumbledore- end of my career -'

'You are blinded,' said Dumbledore, his voice raising now, the aura of power around him intensed, his eyes blazing once more, 'by the love of the office you hold, Cornelius! You place too much importance, and you always have done, on the so-called purity of blood! You fail to recognize that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be! Your dementors have just destroyed the last remaining member of a pure-blood family as old as any - and see what that man chose to make of his life! I tell you now - take the steps I have suggested, and you will be remembered, in office or out, as one of the bravest and greatest Ministers of Magic we have ever known. Fail to act - and history will remember you as the man who stepped aside and allowed Voldemort a second chance to destroy the world we have tried to rebuild!'

'Insane,' whispered Fudge, still backing away. 'Mad…'

And there was silence. Madam Pomfrey was standing frozen at the foot of Harry' bed, her hands over her mouth. Remus was standing over Arabella, his hands on her shoulders to prevent her from rising. Mrs Weasley, Bill, Ron and Hermione were staring at Fudge.

'If your determination to shut your eyes will carry you as far as this, Cornelius,' said Dumbledore, 'we have reached a parting of the ways. You must act as you see fit. And I - I shall act as I see fit.'

Dumbledore's voice carried no hint of a threat; it sounded like a mere statement, but Fudge stiffened as though Dumbledore were advancing upon him with a wand.

'Now, see here, Dumbledore,' he said, waving a threatening finger. 'I've given you free rein, always. I've had a lot of respect for you. I might not have agreed with some of your decisions, but I've kept quiet. There aren't many who'd have let you hire werewolves, or keep Hagrid, or decide what to teach your students without reference to the Ministry. But if you're going to work against me -'

'The only one against whom I intend to work,' said Dumbledore, 'is Lord Voldemort. If you are against him, then we remain, Cornelius, on the same side.'

It seemed Fudge could think of no answer to this. He rocked backward and forward on his small feet for a moment and spun his bowler hat in his hands. Finally, he said, with a hint of a plea in his voice, 'He can't be back, Dumbledore, he just can't be…'

Snape strode forward, past Dumbledore, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. He stuck out his forearm and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled.

'There,' said Snape harshly. 'There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff's too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eaters to be sure of a welcome back into the fold.'

Fudge stepped back from Snape too. He was shaking his head. He did not seem to have taken in a word Snape had said. He stared, apparently repelled by the mark on Snape's arm, then looked up at Dumbledore and whispered, 'I don't know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough. I have no more to add. I will be in touch with you tomorrow, Dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry.'

He had almost reached the door when he paused. He turned around, strode back down the infirmary, and stopped at Harry's bed.

'Your winnings,' he said shortly, taking a large bag of gold out of his pocket and dropping it onto Harry's bedside table. 'One thousand Galleons. There should have been a presentation ceremony, but under the circumstances…'

He crammed his bowler hat onto his head and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The moment he had disappeared, Dumbledore turned to look at the group around Harry and Arabella's bed.

'There is work to be done,' he said. 'Molly… am I right in thinking that I can count on you and Arthur?'

'Of course you can,' said Mrs Weasley. 'We know what Fudge is. It's Arthur's fondness for Muggles that has held him back at the Ministry all these years. Fudge thinks he lacks proper wizarding pride.'

'Then I need to send a message to Arthur,' said Dumbledore. 'All those that we can persuade of the truth must be notified immediately, and he is well placed to contact those at the Ministry who are not as shortsighted as Cornelius.'

'I'll go to Dad,' said Bill, standing up. 'I'll go now.'

'Excellent,' said Dumbledore. 'Tell him what has happened. Tell him I will be in direct contact with him shortly. He will need to be discreet, however. If Fudge thinks I am interfering at the Ministry -'

'Leave it to me,' said Bill.

He clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder, squeezed Arabella's arm, kissed his mother on the cheek, pulled on his cloak, and strode quickly from the room.

'Minerva,' said Dumbledore, turning to Professor McGonagall, 'I want to see Hagrid in my office as soon as possible. Also – if she will consent to come – Madame Maxime.'

Professor McGonagall nodded and left without a word.

'Poppy,' Dumbledore said to Madam Pomfrey, 'would you be very kind and go down to Professor Moody's office, where I think you will find a house-elf called Winky in considerable distress? Do what you can for her, and take her back to the kitchens. I think Dobby will look after her for us.'

'Very – very well,' said Madam Pomfrey, looking startled, and she too left.

Dumbledore made sure that the door was closed, and that Madam Pomfrey's footsteps had died away, before he spoke again.

'And now,' he said, 'it is time for three of our number to recognize each other for what they are. Sirius… if you could resume your usual form.'

The great black dog looked up at Dumbledore, then, in an instant, turned into a man.

Mrs Weasley screamed and leapt back from Harry's bed.

'Sirius Black!' she shrieked, pointing at him.

'Mum, shut up!' Ron yelled. 'It's okay!'

Snape had not yelled or jumped backward, but the look on his face was one of mingled fury and horror.

'Him!' he snarled, staring at Sirius, whose face showed equal dislike. 'What is he doing here?'

'He's with me,' said Remus, standing beside Sirius.

'They are both here at my invitation,' said Dumbledore, looking between the three of them, 'as are you, Severus. I trust the three of you. It is time to lay aside your old differences and trust each other.'

Arabella snorted. Dumbledore was asking for a miracle. Sirius and Snape were eying each other with the utmost loathing. Remus looked at the two of them with an amused expression. It seemed like they were both thinking the same thing.

'I will settle, in the short term,' said Dumbledore, with some impatience in his voice, 'for a lack of open hostility. You will shake hands. You are all on the same side now. Time is short, and unless the few of us who know the truth do not stand united, there is no hope for any of us.'

Very slowly – but still glaring at each other – Sirius and Severus moved toward each other and shook hands. They let go extremely quickly. Remus and Snape shook hands too, which lasted a little bit longer.

'That will do to be going on with,' said Dumbledore. 'Now I have work for each of you. Fudge's attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything. Sirius, Remus, I need the both of you to set off at once. You are to alert Arabella Figg and Mundungus Fletcher – the old crowd. Lie low at headquarters for a while after this; I will contact you there.'

'You're leaving?' said Arabella, standing up very quickly, and regretting it immediately as she put an immense amount of pressure on her broken ankle. Remus managed to catch her in time before she fell.

'You will see us soon,' he said, hugging her. 'I'll be at the train station, I promise you.'

'But –' said Harry, looking at Sirius.

'We'll see each other very soon,' said Sirius, looking at Harry and Arabella. 'I promise you. But we must do what we can, you understand, don't you?'

'Yeah,' said Harry. 'Yeah… of course I do.'

Sirius grasped Harry's hand briefly before hugging Arabella. She felt as though she could cry in his arms. There were safe, comforting, she didn't want him to let go anytime soon.

'We'll see each other soon?' mumbled Arabella.

'Soon,' said Sirius, holding her out in arm's length. 'I promise.'

Arabella nodded, but wanted to scream to him and Remus to stay with her in the hospital wing. She didn't want to say goodbye to them so quickly.

'Who's Isaak?' asked Arabella to Sirius and Remus.

'Not now,' said Remus, as he, Dumbledore and Sirius looked uncomfortable. 'When we see each other, we'll tell you about him and Arry. I promise.'

Sirius squeezed her shoulders lightly, nodded to Dumbledore, transformed again into the black dog. Remus and Sirius walked the length of the room, turned the handle, and they were gone.

'Severus,' said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, 'you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready… if you are prepared…'

'I am,' said Snape.

'Then good luck,' said Dumbledore, and they watched Snape swept wordlessly towards the door.

It was several minutes before Dumbledore spoke again.

'I must go downstairs,' he said finally. 'I must see the Diggorys. Harry, Arabella – take the rest of your potion. I will see all of you later.'

Arabella watched as Dumbledore disappeared out the door. Hermione, Ron, and Mrs Weasley were all looking at Arabella and Harry. None of them spoke for a very long time.

'You have to take the rest of your potion Harry,' Mrs Weasley said at last. 'You have a good long sleep. Try and think about something else for a while… think about what you're going to buy with your winnings!'

'I don't want that gold,' said Harry in an expressionless voice. 'You have it. Anyone can have it. I shouldn't have won it. It should've been Cedric's.'

'It wasn't your fault, Harry,' Mrs Weasley whispered.

'I told him to take the cup with me,' said Harry.

Mrs Weasley bent down and put her arms around Harry. Harry relaxed into the hug, but a loud slamming noise interrupted them, and Mrs Weasley and Harry broke apart. Hermione was standing by the window. She was holding something tight in her hand.

'Sorry,' she whispered.

'Your potion, Harry,' said Mrs Weasley quickly, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand.

Harry drank it in one gulp. He fell back onto his pillow and immediately fell asleep.

'Arabella, dear,' said Mrs Weasley, approaching Arabella cautiously. 'You have to lie down. You're adding more pressure to your broken ankle.'

Arabella was still standing up, looking at the door where Remus and Sirius left. She hoped that if she stared long enough, they would come back, they would say that they would stay with them and never leave, but that wasn't going to happen. She could only wish…

'What?' said Arabella, turning towards Mrs Weasley.

'Your ankle, dear,' said Mrs Weasley. 'You're adding more pressure to it. You must lie down, drink your potion and get some sleep.'

Arabella shook her head, trying to blink away her tears, and said, 'No, I'm not sleepy, I can't sleep, I don't want to sleep. I want Moony, I want Padfoot.'

Mrs Weasley wrapped her arms around Arabella, who now openly wept into Mrs Weasley's shoulders. She was mumbling nonsense into Mrs Weasley's shoulder, saying how she was an idiot for not realizing someone was impersonating Mad-Eye, how stupid of her to follow him, how she didn't convince Cedric and Harry to go back to Hogwarts and get Dumbledore…

Mrs Weasley didn't understand what she was saying, but rubbing her back in a comforting way, and kept saying that everything was going to be alright. It was nice, to be hugged like this, by a mother. She loved Andy and her hugs, but this hug was different. It made her fell as though the weight of everything that happened was lifted off her shoulders. She longed for hugs like this.

'Your potion, Arabella,' mumbled Mrs Weasley, leading Arabella back to her bed and handing her the goblet.

'You'll stay here?' asked Arabella, wiping the tears from her face with the back of her hand.

'Of course, I will,' said Mrs Weasley, giving her a warm smile. 'I'll be here when you get up.'

Arabella nodded as Ron as Hermione also nodded behind Mrs Weasley. She drank the potion in one gulp, fell back into her pillows and embraced the silence.

**Thank you for reading! Just to clarify, I did not spell Isaak wrong. There are two ways in spelling the names. Isaac, the Anglicized form and Isaak, the Greek form, according to the website I'm using. **


	32. The Beginning

**I'm done the fourth book! WAHO! Thank you for reading, commenting, following, and putting this book as your favorite! Thank you very much! I'm really horrible at replying to your comments, but I really appreciate it! Anyways, hope you like this chapter! **

**disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, just Arabella. **

The Beginning

Madam Pomfrey managed to somewhat heal Arabella's ankle and her arm, but put a cast on her arm and suggested using clutches just in case since there was a lot of swelling. Mrs Weasley had to go back home, but gave both Harry and her hugs and promised that they will be able to stay over during the summer. The worst, perhaps, was meeting with the Diggorys that took place the following morning.

They did not blame Harry or Arabella for what happened, but thanked them for returning Cedric's body back to them. Mr Diggory sobbed through most of the interview. Mrs Diggory's grief seemed to be beyond tears.

'He suffered very little then,' she said, when Harry had told her how Cedric had died. 'And after all, Amos… he died just when he'd won the tournament. He must have been happy.'

When they got to their feet, she looked down at Harry and Arabella, and said, 'You look after yourselves, now.'

Harry seized the sack of gold on the bedside table.

'You take this,' he muttered to her. 'It should've been Cedric's, he got there first, you take it –'

But she back away from him.

'Oh no, it's yours, dear, I couldn't… you keep it.'

Arabella and Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower the following evening. From what Ron and Hermione told them, Dumbledore had spoken to the school that morning at breakfast. He had merely requested that they leave them alone, that nobody ask them questions or badger them to tell the story of what had happened in the maze.

The next few days after that passed by in a blur for Arabella. She spent her times with Harry, Ron and Hermione, talking about anything besides what happened at the graveyard. It was an unspoken deal between the four of them.

They went to go visit Hagrid and found out that he had a job to do over the summer with Madame Maxime. He didn't tell them what it was, but they knew it had something to do with Voldemort.

The night before her return back home, Arabella was dreading the Leaving Feast, which was usually a cause for celebration, when the winner if the Inter-House Championship would be announced. She's been trying to avoid the Great Hall, asking Fred and George if they could get her some food from the kitchens. They understood and agreed.

When she, Harry, Ron and Hermione entered the Hall, they saw at once that the usual decorations were missing. There were black drapes on the all beside the teacher's table. Arabella knew they instantly that they were there as a mark of respect to Cedric.

They sat down in an isolated part of the table together. Harry was helping her as Arabella was still trying to adjust to her clutches.

Professor Dumbledore stood up at the staff table. The Great Hall became very quiet.

'The end,' said Dumbledore, looking around at them all, 'of another year.'

He paused, and his eyes fell upon the Hufflepuff table. Theirs had been the quietest table before he had gotten to his feet, and theirs were still the saddest and palest faces in the Hall.

'There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight,' said Dumbledore, 'but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here,' he gestured toward the Hufflepuffs, 'enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory.'

They did it, all of them; the benches scraped as everyone in the Hall stood, and raised their goblets, and echoed, in one loud, low, rumbling voice, 'Cedric Diggory.'

'Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff house,' Dumbledore continued. 'He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about.'

Arabella raised her head and stared at Dumbledore.

'Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort.'

A panicked whisper swept the Great Hall. People were staring at Dumbledore in disbelief, in horror. He looked perfectly calm as he watched them mutter themselves into silence.

'The Ministry of Magic,' Dumbledore continued, 'does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so - either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory.'

Stunned and frightened, every face in the Hall was turned toward Dumbledore now… or almost every face. Over at the Slytherin table Arabella saw Malfoy muttering something to Crabbe and Goyle. She felt a surge of burning anger, but forced herself to look back at Dumbledore.

'There are two other people who must be mentioned in connection with Cedric's death,' Dumbledore went on. 'I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter and Arabella Black.'

A kind of ripple crossed the Great Hall as a few heads turned in Harry and Arabella's direction before flicking back to face Dumbledore.

'Harry Potter and Arabella Black managed to escape Lord Voldemort,' said Dumbledore. 'They risked their own life to return Cedric's body to Hogwarts. They showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honor them.'

Dumbledore turned gravely to Harry and Arabella, then raised his goblet once more. Nearly everyone in the Great Hall followed suit. They murmured their names, as they murmured Cedric's, and drank to them. _Don't say my name like that!_ thought Arabella_ Don't say my name with respect! I did nothing! I didn't even have my wand! I was useless and I didn't do anything to stop Cedric from being killed! I did nothing…_

When everyone had once again resumed their seats, Dumbledore continued, 'The Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened - of Lord Voldemorts return - such ties are more important than ever before.'

Dumbledore looked from Madame Maxime and Hagrid, to Fleur Delacour and her fellow Beauxbatons students, to Viktor Krum and the Durmstrangs at the Slytherin table.

'Every guest in this Hall,' said Dumbledore, and his eyes lingered upon the Durmstrang students, 'will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again - in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.

'It is my belief - and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken - that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, a student was taken from our midst.

'Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory.'

* * *

Arabella's truck was packed with Shay back in her cage in top of it. She, Harry, Ron and Hermione were waiting in the crowded entrance hall with the rest of the fourth years for the carriages that would take them back to Hogsmeade station.

''Arry!'

Arabella turned around to see Fleur Delacour hurrying up the stone steps into the castle.

'We will see each uzzer again, I 'ope,' said Fleur as she reached him, holding out her hand. 'I am 'oping to get a job 'ere, to improve my Eenglish.'

'It's very good already,' said Ron in a strangled sort of voice. Fleur smiled at him; Hermione scowled.

'Good-bye, 'Arry,' said Fleur, turning to go. 'It 'az been a pleasure meeting you!'

She patted Arabella's cheek before hurrying back across the lawns to Madame Maxime.

'Wonder how the Durmstrang students are getting back,' said Ron. 'D'you reckon they can steer that ship without Karkaroff?'

'Karkaroff did not steer,' said a gruff voice. 'He stayed in his cabin and let us do the vork.'

Krum had come to say good-bye to Hermione with Nikola behind him 'Could I have a vord?' he asked Hermione.

'Oh…yes…all right,' said Hermione, looking slightly flustered, and following Krum through the crowd and out of sight, leaving Nikola with them.

'You'd better hurry up!' Ron called loudly after her. 'The carriages'll be here in a minute!'

'What do you want?' asked Harry, looking at Nikola with anger.

Nikola ignored Harry, looking at Arabella with guilt, and said, 'I'm sorry, for everything I did to you. It was stupid and foolish of me. I know you won't accept my apology, but I just wanted to tell you that.'

'You're right, I don't accept your apology,' said Arabella coldly. 'And to be honest, I really don't care. You can leave now.'

Nikola nodded, defeated, and walked down the staircase back towards the ship.

Hermione and Krum returned just as Nikola left. Ron stared at Hermione, but her face was quite emotionless.

'I liked Diggory,' said Krum abruptly to Harry. 'He vos alvays polite to me. Alvays. Even though I vos from Durmstrang - with Karkaroff,' he added, scowling.

'Have you got a new headmaster yet?' said Harry.

Krum shrugged. He held out his hand as Fleur had done, shook Harry's hand, Arabella's and Ron's. Ron looked as though he was suffering some sort of painful internal struggle. Krum had already started walking away when Ron burst out, 'Can I have your autograph?'

Hermione turned away, smiling at the carriages that were now rolling towards them up the drive, as Krum, looking surprised, and signed a fragment of parchment for Ron and Arabella's cast when she asked him too.

Arabella, Harry, Ron and Hermione managed to find a compartment to themselves. They talked more fully and freely than they had all week. After Dumbledore's speech at the Leaving Feast, Arabella found that it was less painful to talk about what happened. They broke off their conversation about what action Dumbledore might be taking, even now, to stop Voldemort only when the lunch trolley arrived.

When Hermione returned from the trolley and put her money back into her schoolbag, she dislodged a copy of the Daily Prophet that she had been carrying in there. Arabella looked at it, unsure whether she really wanted to know what it might say, but Hermione, seeing her looking at it, said calmly, 'There's nothing in there. You can look for yourself, but there's nothing at all. I've been checking every day. Just a small piece the day after the third task saying you won the tournament. They didn't even mention Cedric. Nothing about any of it. If you ask me Fudge is forcing them to keep quiet.'

'He'll never keep Rita quiet,' said Harry. 'Not on a story like this.'

'Oh, Rita hasn't written anything at all since the third task,' said Hermione in an oddly constrained voice. 'As a matter of fact,' she added, her voice now trembling slightly, 'Rita Skeeter isn't going to be writing anything at all for a while. Not unless she wants me to spill the beans on her.'

'What are you talking about?' said Ron.

'I found out how she was listening in on private conversations when she wasn't supposed to be coming onto the grounds,' said Hermione in a rush.

Arabella had the impression that Hermione had been dying to tell them this for days, but she had to restrain herself in light of everything that had happened.

'How was she doing it?' said Harry at once.

'How did you find out?' said Ron, staring at her.

'Well, it was you, really, who gave me the idea Harry,' she said.

'Did I?' said Harry, perplexed. 'How?'

'Bugging,' said Hermione happily.

'But you said they didn't work -'

'Oh not electronic bugs,' said Hermione. 'No, you see…Rita Skeeter' -

Hermione's voice trembled with quiet triumph - 'is an unregistered Animagus. She can turn -'

Hermione pulled a small sealed glass jar out other bag. '- into a beetle.'

'You're kidding,' said Ron. 'You haven't… she's not…'

'Oh yes she is,' said Hermione happily, brandishing the jar at them.

Inside were a few twigs and leaves and one large, fat beetle.

'That's never - you're kidding -' Ron whispered, lifting the jar to his eyes.

'No, I'm not,' said Hermione, beaming. 'I caught her on the windowsill in the hospital wing. Look very closely, and you'll notice the markings around her antennae are exactly like those foul glasses she wears.'

Hermione took the glass jar back from Ron and smiled at the beetle, which buzzed angrily against the glass.

'I've told her I'll let her out when we get back to London,' said Hermione. 'I've put an Unbreakable Charm on the jar, you see, so she can't transform. And I've told her she's to keep her quill to herself for a whole year. See if she can't break the habit of writing horrible lies about people.'

Smiling serenely, Hermione placed the beetle back inside her schoolbag.

The door of the compartment slid open.

'Very clever Granger,' said Malfoy.

Crabbe and Goyle were standing behind him.

'So,' said Malfoy slowly, advancing slightly into the compartment and looking slowly around at them, a smirk quivering on his lips. 'You caught some pathetic reporter, and Potter's Dumbledore's favorite boy again. Big deal.'

His smirk widened. Crabbe and Goyle leered.

'Trying not to think about it, are we?' said Malfoy softly, looking around at all three of them. 'Trying to pretend it hasn't happened?'

'Get out,' said Harry.

'You've picked the losing side, Potter! I warned you! I told you ought to choose your company more carefully, remember? When we met on the train, first day at Hogwarts? I told you not to hang around with riffraff like this!' He jerked his head at Arabella, Ron and Hermione. 'Too late now Potter! They'll be the first to go, now the Dark Lord's back! Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers first! Well - second - Diggory was the f-'

It was as though someone had exploded a box of fireworks within the compartment. Blinded by the blaze of the spells that had blasted from every direction, Arabella blinked and looked down at the floor.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were all lying unconscious in the doorway. Harry, Ron and Hermione were all standing on their feet while Arabella was still sitting down. They all had their wands out and used different hexes. Nor were they the only ones to have done so.

'Thought we'd see what those three were up to,' said Fred matter-of-factly, stepping onto Goyle and into the compartment. He had his wand out, and so did George, who was careful to tread on Malfoy as he followed Fred inside.

'Interesting effect,' said George, looking down at Crabbe. 'Who used the Furnunculus Curse?'

'Me,' said Harry.

'Odd,' said George lightly. 'I used Jelly-Legs. Looks as though those two shouldn't be mixed. He seems to have sprouted little tentacles all over his face. Well, let's not leave them here, they don't add much to the decor.'

Ron, Harry, and George kicked, rolled, and pushed the unconscious Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle - each of whom looked distinctly the worse for the jumble of jinxes with which they had been hit - out into the corridor, then came back into the compartment and rolled the door shut.

'Exploding Snap, anyone?' said Fred, pulling out a pack of cards.

They were halfway through their fifth game when Harry decided to ask them.

'You going to tell us, then?' he said to George. 'Who you were blackmailing?'

'Oh,' said George darkly. 'That.'

'It doesn't matter,' said Fred, shaking his head impatiently. 'It wasn't anything important. Not now, anyway.'

'We've given up,' said George, shrugging.

But Arabella, Harry, Ron and Hermione kept on asking, and finally, Fred said, 'All right, all right, if you really want to know… it was Ludo Bagman.'

'Bagman?' said Arabella sharply. 'Are you saying he was involved in -'

'Nah,' said George gloomily. 'Nothing like that. Stupid git. He wouldn't have the brains.'

'Well, what, then?' said Ron.

Fred hesitated, then said, 'You remember that bet we had with him at the Quidditch World Cup? About how Ireland would win, but Krum would get the Snitch?'

'Yeah,' said Harry and Ron slowly.

'Well, the git paid us in leprechaun gold he'd caught from the Irish mascots.'

'So?'

'So,' said Fred impatiently, 'it vanished, didn't it? By next morning, it had gone!'

'But - it must've been an accident, mustn't it?' said Hermione.

George laughed very bitterly.

'Yeah, that's what we thought, at first. We thought if we just wrote to him, and told him he'd made a mistake, he'd cough up. But nothing doing. Ignored our letter. We kept trying to talk to him about it at Hogwarts, but he was always making some excuse to get away from us.'

'In the end, he turned pretty nasty,' said Fred. 'Told us we were too young to gamble, and he wasn't giving us anything.'

'So we asked for our money back,' said George glowering.

'He didn't refuse!' gasped Hermione.

'Right in one,' said Fred.

'But that was all your savings!' said Ron.

'Tell me about it,' said George. ''Course, we found out what was going on in the end. Lee Jordan's dad had had a bit of trouble getting money off Bagman as well. Turns out he's in big trouble with the goblins. Borrowed loads of gold off them. A gang of them cornered him in the woods after the World Cup and took all the gold he had, and it still wasn't enough to cover all his debts. They followed him all the way to Hogwarts to keep an eye on him. He's lost everything gambling. Hasn't got two Galleons to rub together. And you know how the idiot tried to pay the goblins back?'

'How?' said Harry.

'He put a bet on you, mate,' said Fred. 'Put a big bet on you to win the tournament. Bet against the goblins.'

'So that's why he kept trying to help me win!' said Harry. 'Well - I did win, didn't I? So he can pay you your gold!'

'Nope,' said George, shaking his head. 'The goblins play as dirty as him. They say you drew with Diggory, and Bagman was betting you'd win outright. So Bagman had to run for it. He did run for it right after the third task.'

George sighed deeply and started dealing out the cards again.

'Wait a minute,' said Hermione, she then turned to Arabella and Harry, 'when the two of you start seeing each other?'

'What?' said Arabella, confused.

'When did the two of you start… you know…'

Arabella turned to Harry, outraged. 'You told her?!'

'No,' said Harry, moving away, 'Neville told them.'

'What?!'

'Yeah, told all of us –' said Fred.

'Who's us?' asked Arabella, dreading the answer.

'Me,' said Fred.

'Me,' said George.

'Ron.'

'Hermione.'

'Mum.'

'Bill.'

'Ginny.'

'Professor Lupin.'

'Uncle Remus knows?' said Arabella, meaning that Sirius also knew.

'Yeah,' said Fred shrugging.

'Why didn't you tell us?' said Ron.

'There was nothing to tell,' said Arabella.

'I wouldn't say nothing,' said Harry, looking hurt. 'There was something to say.'

The rest of the journey passed back uncomfortable. Harry looked hurt as Fred and George kept making kissing faces towards them. Hermione went on about the meaning of friendship and how friends don't keep secrets away from each other. Arabella was quite happy when the Hogwarts Express pulled in platform nine and three-quarters. The usual confusion and noise filled the corridors as the student began to get off. Ron and Hermione struggled out past Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle carrying their trucks. Arabella waited until the crowd died out, and Harry stayed with her.

'Fred - George - wait a moment,' said Harry.

The twins turned. Harry pulled open his trunk and drew out his Triwizard winnings.

'Take it,' he said, and he thrust the sack into George's hands.

'What?' said Fred, looking flabbergasted.

'Take it,' Harry repeated firmly. 'I don't want it.'

'You're mental,' said George, trying to push it back at Harry.

'No, I'm not,' said Harry. 'You take it, and get inventing. It's for the joke shop.'

'He is mental,' Fred said in an almost awed voice.

'Listen,' said Harry firmly. 'If you don't take it, I'm throwing it down the drain. I don't want it and I don't need it. But I could do with a few laughs. We could all do with a few laughs. I've got a feeling we're going to need them more than usual before long.'

'Harry,' said George weakly, weighing the money bag in his hands, 'there's got to be a thousand Galleons in here.'

'Yeah,' said Harry, grinning. 'Think how many Canary Creams that is.'

The twins stared at him.

'Just don't tell your mum where you got it…although she might not be so keen for you to join the Ministry anymore, come to think of it…'

'Harry,' Fred began, but Harry pulled out his wand.

'Look,' he said flatly, 'take it, or I'll hex you. I know some good ones now. Just do me one favor, okay? Buy Ron some different dress robes and say they're from you.'

Fred and George thanked him profoundly and left the compartment. Harry was about to leave too, but Arabella held on to his arm.

'I'm sorry,' she said.

'Like you said, nothing to say,' said Harry, not looking at her.

'There is something to say, there's always something to say,' said Arabella, guilty. 'I just didn't want to say anything in front of them.'

'Why?'

'You saw how Fred and George were,' said Arabella, shrugging trying to get up and holding on to her clutches. 'It was embarrassing.'

'So you're embarrassed of us?'

'That's not what I'm trying to say.'

'What are you trying to say?'

'They were embarrassing! I'm not embarrassed about whatever we have!'

'What do we have?'

'Something.'

'Something? Really? That's –'

Before Harry could finish his sentence, Arabella kissed him. It was nice and a simple one. There was no chill that went through her spine, but a nice warm feeling that spread from her stomach through her whole body.

'I'm sorry,' whispered Arabella, closing her eyes and leaning a bit on him. 'I'll make it up to you, I promise. I'm not embarrassed.'

'It's fine,' Harry said, shaking his head, giving her one more kiss. 'Let's just go. We'll talk about his later.'

They walked together, stepped over Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle who were still lying on the floor, covered in hex marks.

Remus, Mrs Weasley, and Harry's uncle were waiting beyond the barrier. Mrs Weasley hugged Harry very tightly as Remus did the same to her.

'I missed you,' Arabella mumbled into his shirt.

'I missed you too,' said Remus, rubbing her back.

Mrs Weasley let go of Harry as Remus shook Harry's hand.

'See you, Harry,' said Ron clapping him on the back. '

'Bye, Harry,' said Hermione, hugging Harry.

'Harry – thanks,' George muttered, while Fred nodded fervently at his side.

'Bye, Harry,' said Arabella, hugging him.

Harry gave them all one last smile before turning to his uncle and silently following him out of the station.

'So… er… what's going on between you and Harry?' said Remus, looking uncomfortable.

'Something,' said Arabella, smiling.

'Care to elaborate?'

'No, not yet.'

'Anyway, we have to go,' said Remus, looking at his watch, glad to change the subject.

'Who's Isaak?' asked Arabella.

'Not now,' said Remus, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. 'Later, I promise.'

Arabella nodded as she hugged Hermione and the Weasley.

'I'll see you guys over the summer, yeah?' asked Arabella, looking at them.

'Of course,' said Mrs Weasley. 'Keep in touch, Arabella.'

'Always do, Mrs Weasley,' said Arabella. She then turned to Remus, and said, 'Ready?'

'Yeah,' said Remus, grabbing her truck. 'Let's go.'

'So,' said Arabella, 'we're going to you-know-where?'

'If we're thinking about the same place, then yes,' said Remus. 'Were going there.'

'I hate that place,' said Arabella bitterly.

'I know, he hates it too,' said Remus.

'You'll tell me everything, right?' said Arabella.

'Everything,' said Remus. She could tell he was getting annoyed by her questions. 'I promise.'


End file.
